


Of Devils and Witches

by kirakii



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, devil!Marinette, witch!Adrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakii/pseuds/kirakii
Summary: Adrien Agreste has been cursed with bad luck since he was born. It ended up killing his mother and taking away his ability to walk. His father, an infamous witch hunter, the cause of the curse itself. So, one fateful night, he takes matters into his own hands and summons a devil. He strikes a deal with her, becoming her witch and granting his wish. But what is he to do when the devil doesn't return home? Instead she decides to stay with him, thrusting herself into his life and the lives of those around him. For what purpose does she stay? What is she hiding? What is it that this beautiful devil really wants?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 11
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

Adrien made sure his house was empty. With his father and his father’s assistant, Natalie, visiting the offices in London for the weekend. His bodyguard had fallen asleep in his room hours ago. The sounds of his monstrous snores were the only sound that filled the mansion. Hopefully, the sleeping pills that Adrien had crushed into his tea would keep him asleep until dawn. Maybe later. The chef had gone home hours ago, in the early evening, prepping enough meals for Adrien to reheat over the weekend. Adrien made sure to give him the weekend off. He convinced Gabriel that he could handle the weekend without most of the staff and nurses for once. His father refused to relent on the Gorilla however, insisting that he needed to keep the bodyguard around if no one else would be in the house. 

Gabriel had called before dinner to check on his teenage son. He never liked leaving him alone in the house. Afraid of rabid fans or that Adrien might get himself into trouble. Adrien did have to admit that some of it was warranted. He had the worst luck of anyone he knew. 

Well, it made sense, of course. Adrien knew about what happened when he was little. Even if his father tried to pretend it never happened. When he was born, he had been cursed with bad luck. He never knew how it happened, as Gabirel refused to talk about it, along with the mandatory silence of everyone in the house. But with his father’s hatred of the mystic arts and witches it only made sense for one of them to come seeking some form of retribution. Most thought that in the modern age, all magic had dissipated. However, some magic users still persisted. Witches had been hunted almost to extinction in the European and Salem trials, with only a few covens still remaining. His own father’s family was descended from some witch hunters. Of course, witches would curse the newest witchfinder general’s only son with bad luck. 

Adrien’s own mother, Emilie, had suffered because of it a couple years ago, dying in a car accident that he had survived. Just barely. His back was horribly scarred. A spider web of pink and flesh toned raised skin erupting from his waistband and out from his spine like wings. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the tightness in his back and the crack of his shoulders and spine. Most doctors had told him he wouldn’t walk again. And sitting in the wheelchair that served as his only way to migrate through the house after over four years, he was inclined to agree with them. 

Soon, however, he wouldn’t be stuck in his cursed life if everything went how he planned it to this evening. The clock on the wall read a little before three in the morning. He had to hurry. 

Adrien moved the chair around in a slow circle. The burlap bag in his hand emptied of the obsidian salts as he turned. He lowered himself to the ground, pulling out a paint marker from his pocket and another bag of black salt. Adrien poured the salt into the inside of the circle, forming a pentagram with the point facing the bottom of the circle, near where he sat. Tucked into the cap of the pen, a folded up piece of white paper. He unfolded it and read the marking on the page. His pen moved over the floor as he copied the markings from the paper into the wood. The pen cap stuck out of his mouth at an odd angle. He placed red wax candles at each point, lighting them each. Starting at the point at the bottom and going counter clockwise. 

‘You better be sure that this is what you want, dude. There is no going back once you do this. And even then it might not end up in your favor. Especially with, you know, your luck. Be really careful. And you better not tell her that I stole these from her parent’s shop. I think she might turn me into a turtle if she found out.’

His best friend’s words replayed in his mind as he replaced the cap. Funny how the son of the top witch hunter in all of France, and the middle of Europe, could befriend the boyfriend of a powerful witch. A witch whose family specializes in turning people into animals and objects. And was one of the strongest covens remaining. It made it easy to survive when you turned all your enemies into animals that couldn’t speak out against you. She would probably turn him into a fly or flatworm if she found out what Adrien planned on doing. 

He pulled himself back into his chair, running a hand through his messy blond hair. It had gotten long and shaggy over the years. With the tendency to fall in his eyes and tickle his cheeks. The grandfather clock turned to three in the morning. Bells rang throughout the house. Three times before the clock quieted and the house returned to silence. Three in the morning. The witching hour. His only chance, as someone without magic, to cast a spell. 

Adrien looked to the bottom of the page, reading the latin words there, “Virtutes invoco perditionem. Virtutes invoco creandi. Exaltabo te foveas meam appellant hiatibusque tenebris lucem plane mortalium. Peto a te faciem meam. Adiuro te ut non audient vocem meam. Veni ad me, et faciem meam dimittet vobis et velle meum concordi ratione concedatur.” 

For never speaking a word of latin, the meaning of the words popped up in his brain as he read: ‘I call upon the forces of destruction. I call upon the forces of creation. Heed my call as I raise you from the pits and chasms of darkness and into the light of the mortal plane. I demand that you face me. I demand that you listen to my plea. Come to me and let me face you so that my wish may be granted.’

Nothing happened when the words left his mouth. Nothing but silence greeted him. Not even a single flicker of the candle flames. Adrien sighed deeply, pulling at his hair. He opened his mouth to begin again. Maybe he hadn’t said the words right. Maybe his pronunciation was wrong. Maybe he needed to say them more than once. He always assumed that spells should be chanted over and over. At least that’s how witches did it in the movies. He’d never seen an actual witch perform an actual spell before. 

Before he could get another word out, all breath was ripped from his throat. It left him gasping for air like a fish out of water. Wind howled in his room, tearing at his hair and it shredded deep gashes into his skin and clothes. The candles erupted in flame. They singed the ceilings of his expansive cieling. It blinded him with the white fire and he clamped his hands over his eyes. The salts cooked and sizzled. A popping sound reverberated through the room. Slowly the light dimmed enough against his eyelids that he dared opening his eyes. 

Standing in the center of the salt ring, a beautiful young woman. Naked except for the red shadows that moved across her fair skin. Her long black hair hung down to her waist. Blue eyes caught green as she stared him down. Eyes that seemed to be old and endless as the deepest and darkest parts of the ocean. Her lean body covered in tight, corded muscles. A slender waist that curved to narrow hips. Her arms crossed over her slight, bare chest. She took his breath away again as he stared upon her. And not from the devilish wind that had died down. 

“Hello.” Her voice was soft and warm. Sweet. 

“You’re a devil?” The words spilled out of his mouth. 

The young tapped her cheek with a painted fingernail, “Why, of course, I am. You summoned me.” She gave him a saccharine smile, showing a row of perfect white teeth. He noticed the long canines that looked like they could rip out his throat with a bite.

“You don’t look like anything I was expecting.”

“Well, most people don’t like my other forms. This one,” She gestured down to the teenage girl body. “Tends to make summoners a little more at ease. Doesn’t tend to scare them away. Or make them die of fright.” 

Adrien swallowed hard, “Can you really grant wishes?”

The devil girl laughed. A light sound without any seeming malice. “You risked summoning me without actually believing that I can do what you summoned me to do. You must be particularly stupid or utterly desperate.” 

“You could say that.” 

She made a move forward. Only to be blocked by an invisible wall. Her smile turned into a scowl. “Ugh, this again. Really it is a pain in the ass. But yes, I can grant you a wish. Certain ones of course. But,” A dark smile grew on her face. Her fangs glowed in the candle light. Her blue eyes flashed red for a moment, so fast he almost missed it. “What would be in it for me, Adrien Agreste? You can’t expect me to give out a wish for nothing.” 

“I heard you were one of the most powerful devils in the Pit. I need that power.”

“You need my power? What makes you think you deserve to have it?” 

“Like I said, I need it. And I need you to give it to me. Now.”

She chuckled deeply in her chest. The devil thrust her hand out in front of her. Her small hand formed into a tight fist. Adrien was yanked from his chair and sent tumbling in her direction. He collided with the same barrier that had kept her in. It felt like fists wrapped around his throat. Even though he could see that she didn’t land a single touch on her. His lungs began to ache from lack of oxygen. If his legs worked he would have kicked out at her, but they stubbornly remained immobilized. Toes barely skimmed the floor. 

She seethed through her teeth, fangs extended past her lip as her form began to drop ever so slightly, “I’m one of the High Kings of the Pit and you dare to demand my power and my gifts. You might have kept me contained in this little salt circle, but nothing on this mortal plane can hold me or my magic forever. You will regret summoning me here, because this is where you die and it will be by my hand.” 

Adrien clawed at his own throat, choking out, “Please, wait, hear me out. Please. I beg you.” He was dropped hard on his behind. 

“I like it when humans beg a little. I’ll give you one chance to plead your case before I kill you.” 

He rubbed at his neck. The ghost hands no longer choked the air out of him. He wondered if there would be bruises. If he would live long enough to see. Adrien bowed his head low, staring at his lap. 

“I’m sorry. I disrespected you and that is wrong of me.” He found his voice. It croaked out of his damaged throat. “You asked what I could give you. What would be in it for you. I give you my soul, my life, my being. I will be your servant here on earth and when I pass in the Pit.”

The devil twirled her wrist, “Boring. I could have any mortal I want to serve me. And souls aren’t a rare commodity anymore.” 

“You didn’t let me finish. As the son of a witchfinder general, my father has collected all the rare mystic artifacts that have been stolen from deceased witches. And along with that, something I think you would be interested in.” He pulled himself back to his chair, digging through the pouch that hung off the side. Gabriel would kill him if he found out what was in the bag. Adrien pulled out a small, hexagonal wooden box. He opened the lid, showing the contents to the devil. 

Surprise flashed across her delicate features for a moment. A slight gasp escaped her plump mouth, “Those were supposedly destroyed.” 

“If I’m right about what these are, they have the ability to give you a mortal form so that you can walk along this plane. I will give these to you in exchange for you granting my wish. I heard that they would only work for you, for Tikki, the devil of creation. The most powerful devil except for the devil of destruction, who happens to be deceased. I’ll give you these back. And you grant my wish.” 

“You haven’t even told me your wish. How do I know if it is a fair deal for me or not?” She hummed. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. It surprises me how much you know about the Pits.” 

“I’ll tell you my wish,” Adrien took a deep breath, stealing his nerves as he faced the beautiful devil down. “I wish to be able to walk again. I wish to have the strength in my body back. But most of all, I wish to be rid of this curse of bad luck.” 

The devil laughed, doubling over, “That’s all? You summoned me and offered those for a simple, easy wish like that? You could have asked for anything in the world and that is what you demand of me? You could have asked for love or riches or the control over life and death itself.” 

“I don’t want any of that.” 

“I can see that.” She held out her hand to him. Flat and open. Not like the fist that had choked the air out of his lungs earlier. The devil crouched down, so her blue eyes were level with his on the ground. “I accept your offer, Adrien Agreste. For the earrings and your soul, I will grant you strength, power, and longevity. I will lift the curse of bad luck from your soul. If you take my hand, you must take my hand, then the deal will be completed. Clear a path in the salt and take it if you want. But be forewarned, once you enter into a contract with a devil, you can never get out of it. I will own you and in turn I will grant you your heart’s very wish.” 

Adrien swiped his index finger through the obsidian salt ring, breaking the barrier. The invisible wall around the devil fell. Her hand inches from his own. Without the barrier, he could feel the heat that radiated off her. Red shadows that danced around her moved away from her body and began to surround his own. 

He grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. Adrien watched the devil as her eyes went from normal looking blues to complete filled in with blood red. Her other small hand warped around the wooden box, claiming her prize. 

She yanked him towards her body. Adrien fell through the salts, disrupting the circle and destroying the pentagram. They collided as she placed her mouth on his, sealing the deal.


	2. Chapter 2

Adrien woke up to the early morning light streaming through his floor to ceiling windows. He shoved the pillow over his head. A groan fell out of his mouth as he turned over and slammed his face into the mattress. His entire body ached. From the pounding in his head that matched the beating of his heart to the ache that settled in his lungs to the sharp pain in the bottom of his feet that felt like a knife had been driven through the soles. 

Wait. Pain. Pain in his feet. That shot up his entire leg to his hip as he moved. Adrien bolted upright, tossing the blankets aside. He stared down at his legs. Still clad in the same dark jeans as the day before. Feet covered in fuzzy socks. He focused all his energy on the pain he felt in them. More than he’d felt in years. Adrien took the risk and tried to move his toes. They wiggled in the socks. He moved to bend his knee and for the first time in over four years they listened. Adrien moved his legs up and down, bending and unbending at the knee, lifting off the mattress, rolling his ankles. 

He squealed in excitement. Practically threw himself off the bed. His legs crumpled beneath him as he tried to stand and his knees slammed into the wooden floor. Adrien cried out in pain. Tears began to sting at the back of his eye lids. 

A click of a tongue had him whipping his head back to his king sized bed. 

“Slow down there, pretty boy, I got them to work, but it will still take some time for the rest of your body to readjust to having them functional. I might be an all powerful devil, but the human body still needs time to adjust to magic and changes. You can’t just go jumping and prancing around only hours after getting them fixed. Unless you want to go break them again.” 

“What are you still doing here?” Adrien stared open mouthed at the beautiful devil lounging in his sheets. “I thought once the deal was done, you know, you’d be gone. Back to the Pits.” 

She eyed him with her pretty blue gaze, “I thought about it.”

“So, why didn’t you?” 

“Because I thought this would be more fun. I haven’t been on early in over half a millenia and I haven’t had a witch in about the same amount of time.” She tapped the earrings in her lobes. Black and red spotted studs like a ladybug’s back. “And the mortal world is so new and all different. I thought I’d stay a while.” 

“Well, you can’t stay here.” He huffed. Adrien grabbed the side of the bed and pulled himself back on top of it. Oh how lucky he was that Gabriel and Natalie were out of town for the entire weekend. It would’ve been a pain to try to come up with a reason for the naked girl in his bed. Lucky. He thought himself lucky. That was the first time he’d ever thought himself lucky. 

“Of course I can.” The devil pouted. “You’re my witch. My only witch I should say. You have an obligation to take me in. And I could just make you as you are now bound to me for eternity.” 

Adrien groaned, flopping back on the mattress. “I didn’t think you’d stick around. I expected to summon you and then you’d go back to the Pits.” 

She shot out of bed, ignoring the blanket that had been curled around her, hiding her bare body, “Do you have any food? I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Wait wait wait.” He grabbed her wrist before she could get out of reach. “You can’t just go wandering around wherever you want. Especially not like that. Especially in this house.” 

“And why’s that?” She looked up at him with open, innocent eyes. If she wasn’t a devil inside that porcelain skin his heart might’ve melted. 

“One, you’re naked. You can’t just go walking around without any clothes on. Two, I don’t live by myself as I’m only seventeen. Three, because this is my house and I said so.” 

“Ok, fine. I’ll find some clothes and submit to your mortal customs.” She slipped her slender wrist out of his hand and bounded to the large double doors that went to his walk-in closet. 

“How’d you know where my closet was?” Adrien threw his legs over the side of the bed, standing slowly. His legs were stronger than before. They held him up for a moment before he fell back on to the mattress with a thump. He tried again. And again. Each time he stood, he stood for longer. Until he was able to take a step. Adrien fell right after that first step. 

“Aww look at the little baby deer trying to find his legs.” The devil came out of his closet. She wore one of his white button up silk dress shirts and a pair of pinstripe slacks. The button up tied up under her breasts. The knot dangled above her navel. The slacks rolled up and tightly cuffed with the waist belted with a thick, black leather belt. She grabbed his wrist and tore the black hair band off. Her dark hair tied into a chignon at the nape of her neck. “And I knew where it was because I explored your house after you passed out last night. It’s pretty big with lots of fun rooms. I found the man sleeping in the other room. He looked like not even the apocalypse could wake him. Are these clothes suitable? We aren’t the same size, so I had to make due. Now, can we go get some food?”

“Why aren’t you just making me do it? Or demanding things from me?” 

The devil sighed and rubbed her temples, “Because a witch and devil relationship is a two way street. You get something. I get something. And I’m not particularly trying to be an asshole.” 

“You tried to kill me a couple hours ago.” Adrien pointed out. 

“And a couple hours ago you couldn’t feel your legs. A lot of things can happen in a couple hours. Now, food. C’mon. Get up.” She grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him to his feet. Adrien rested his weight on her, but she hardly seemed to notice.

“I didn’t know devils needed to eat. Somehow I thought you fed on like souls or something magical like that.” 

She waved him off, “Does that really matter? I’m starving and I haven’t had human food in forever. I’ve heard from some of the other active devils that it's gotten better than it was five hundred years ago.” 

“Why do you need me to go with you? Can’t you get food on your own if you know where the kitchen is? Or like magically conjure it up? Also, I still can’t walk because I guess devil magic takes some time to work. Thought it was supposed to be all powerful.” 

“It isn’t your legs that are the issue. It’s your brain finding out you have functioning legs which is the issue. Like a toddler doesn’t just learn how to walk, your body has to remember what it learned. The muscles are back up to the strength they used to be, but they have to remember what to do. Magic doesn’t automatically fix everything without any consequence.” She ducked under his arm and wrapped her arm around his torso. “Let’s go little baby deer and get those legs of yours used to walking already. It feels like it's taking forever.” 

“And the curse is really lifted?” He looked down into her eyes as she began to walk with him. She didn’t seem bothered in the slightest of his larger form pushing down on her petite frame. 

The devil dipped out from under him, letting Adrien crash to the floor. “You ask so many questions. I don’t need you to come with me anymore. I’ll figure out how to use these new appliances on my own. I thought I’d be nice and have you show me so I didn’t burn the house down. Now I’d rather burn the house down. You question my abilities and me all morning. It's annoying. Of course your curse is lifted. I made you a deal and I never go back on my word. I can’t. No devil can.” 

She turned on her heel and walked swiftly out of the room. Adrien watched her from his spot on the floor. 

“I should make sure that she doesn’t burn the house down.” He groaned. Adrien pulled his wheelchair over and settled back into its familiarity. He wheeled him out of his room, down the ramp to the side of the large central staircase and into the kitchen. 

Adrien found her sitting on granite island with her legs tucked beneath her. A glass tupperware container set in her lap. She poked at it with her fork, shoving the cooked ravioli around in the tomato sauce. The devil popped one in her mouth and chewed. 

“I don’t get the big whoop.”

“That’s because you’re not supposed to eat it cold.” He swiped it from her lap and placed it into the microwave, tapping a minute into the timer. She hopped off the counter, watching the microwave. Her eyes wide and full of awe. 

“I was told that you humans found a way to cook things without fire and magic. It’s kinda hard to believe. Are you sure this is cooking it?”

It beeped. Adiren took it out and stirred it before replacing it back in. “I don’t need to cook it. I only need to eat it up. It can cook things, but it isn’t as good for that. Food is still better in the oven or on the stove.” 

“That makes sense.” She sat back on the counter. Legs dangled off the side as she swung them slightly. “Don’t worry about that man in the other room either. I checked on him earlier and he is still unconscious. Whatever spell you cast was pretty powerful.” 

“No spell needed. Just modern medicine.” 

He placed the steaming dish in front of the devil. Adrien grabbed another fork out of the drawer and took one of the ravioli out, blowing on it. “I can’t use magic.”

“You can now. You’re connected to a devil, like any other witch. That means you can also use magic.” The devil took a bite out of the hot pasta. “Hot.” She swallowed hard, fanning her tongue as it lolled out of her mouth. 

“How long are you going to stick around?” Adrien asked around a mouthful of food.

The devil gave him a sideways glance, “As long as I want. I don’t have anywhere else to be. Like I said this seemed like it was going to be more fun.”

“And like I said, you can’t stay here. My father would have a fit. And if he found out you were a devil and that I was a witch--”

“Then he’d burn you alive and send me back to the Pits.” 

“He would try to kill you. Do everything in his power to make it happen.” 

She shrugged her delicate shoulders, “I’d like to see him try. Also, I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to have to come up with some reason for me to be able to stay here.” 

“Fine. But we’re going to need to find you some clothes that actually fit you for starters. I’ll come up with an excuse for you to stay here.” Adrien rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Maybe I can try to convince him that you’re a foreign exchange student at my high school or something and the host family fell through. That might actually work. He’d be pissed to find out that I agreed to it without his permission, but he wouldn’t kick you out onto the street. Hopefully.” 

“But that would mean I would have to go to this ‘high school’ and that doesn’t sound very fun.” She poked at his shirt with her fork. “I’m older than humanity itself. I don’t think there is much that this learning institution can teach me.”

“You didn’t know how to use a microwave.”  
“But I do know how to dissect a man twenty different ways. I know every form of martial art to ever exist. I know more languages than I can count. I know how to toture a man until he breaks without placing a single blade against his skin. I have more arcane knowledge than any other being other than another devil. More than most other devils too. A microwave I can figure out.” 

“You said that this is a two way street. So, for me. Can you consider it?”

She took another bite of the ravioli, finishing it off. “I guess I could. Maybe it could be more fun than I think.” 

“Also, do you have something for me to call you? Other than devil girl? I know your demonic name, but I can’t exactly call you that around others. People would figure out who you are.” 

“Marinette.” 

“Hmm?”

“You can call me Marinette. You asked for a name to call me other than by demonic name. I gave you one.” 

“Why Marinette?” 

“I think it sounds nice. Don’t you?” Her eyes narrowed. 

Adrien held his hands up in surrender, “It’s a pretty name.” 

The devil--Marinette--hopped off the counter. She walked out of the kitchen, leaving the discarded tupperware container. He wheeled after her. Instead of heading to back up the stairs and to his room, she turned and went to the front door. 

“Where are you going?” 

“You said I needed clothes that fit me. I assumed we’d go now. I don’t feel like wasting time. And I’ve spent my whole time on this plane, so far, inside this house. It’s time we get out of here. Let’s go shopping. Also, get out of that chair. Your legs should be up to walking by now.” 

“But I can’t just miraculously start walking, can I? That would be too suspicious.” Adrien sighed and turned his chair to the ramp. “Wait here for a second. I’ve got to get some stuff before we can go out and buy you clothes.”   
He closed the door behind him. Adrien took a deep breath before trying to stand. His legs listened to him. They carried him up and out of the chair. He took a hesitant step forward. His limbs complied. One foot after the other until he came to his bathroom. They ached by the time he came to his sink. Pain shot through the new nerves. Adrien gripped the marble counter and turned the sink on. He stripped out of his torn up shirt and tossed it to the side. Warm water splashed over his face and dripped onto the rippled muscles in his chest. He caught his reflection in the mirror. Shock overtook his features, twisting them. 

“Marinette.” Adrien screamed. He gripped the sink, shaking. “Get in here.” He yelled at her when he heard the door open. 

“What’s wrong?” She came to lean against the doorframe to the bathroom. 

“What is this?” He pointed at the mark in the center of his forehead. It was a red mark, like a tattoo, etched into his skin between his blond brows. A red ladybug with open wings, like it was about to fly off his forehead, stamped onto the golden skin. 

“Your witchmark.” She said, like it was obvious. 

“It’s in the middle of my goddamn forehead!” 

“And? What’s the big deal?” 

“I can’t go out in public with this in the middle of my face. That would be a death sentence to me. I thought witchmarks were supposed to be hidden. I can never leave the house again. Let alone let anyone see me. How could you think that this would be ok?” His voice rose and harshly lashed at her.

Marinette eyed him carefully. She pushed herself off the door frame and walked towards him. Her small hand cupped his face. Thumb pressed into the mark on his forehead. Her nail dug into the skin. Adrien moved to pull back as it bit lightly into his skin. Not deep enough to draw blood, but sharp enough to sting. Her hand held his head in place. He looked down to her mouth. Her plump lips moved in silent words. 

She closed her mouth. Her lips formed a thin, tight line. Marinette pulled her hand away from his skin. “There you go. I cast a glamor on it. No one should be able to see it. Except other witches that have spelled their eyes to see past glamors. But this is one of the strongest I know, so it can’t be just the most basic anti-glamor spell. However, it will break any glamor I place on it if you try to use magic or cast a spell. It should return when you stop using magic, but I can’t be certain.” 

Marinette stepped away from him. She turned her back on him. Adrien grabbed her wrist before she could walk away. 

“Thank you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry I yelled at you.” 

“Most devils would kill you if you yelled at them like that. You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to kill you, right now.” Marinette tore her wrist out of his grip. “Don’t touch me so casually.” 

He watched her stiff back as she walked away from him. Hard and strong. That was what he thought when he looked at her. A devil in the skin of a pretty teenage girl. Adrien looked down at his own hand. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. 

When he looked back at his face in the mirror, the witchmark no longer appeared. Adrien changed into fresh clothes, finding Marinette leaning against the back of the front door. Her arms crossed over her chest. Similar to the first time he’d see her. Except she wore clothes and no longer had those red shades circling her body. He sat in his wheelchair. She said nothing, opening the door and walking outside. 

“Ready to go shopping for some clothes.” 

Marinette gave him a sideways glance, “You better have a lot of money on you, Adrien Agreste, because as your devil I only expect the best.” 

“Of course. We can buy whatever you want, Marinette.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.”


	3. Chapter 3

Adrien’s phone rang in his pocket. He looked around the small boutique, eyeing Marinette still pursuing an aisle of dresses. He pulled it out of his pocket. Gabriel Agreste flashed on the screen. Adrien took a deep breath before answering the number.

“Where on earth are you, Adrien?” His father yelled through the line. “Your bodyguard has been looking all over for you. He told me you’ve been missing for hours. He only called me as a last minute precaution because you weren’t answering any of his calls.” 

“Sorry, father, I was a bit preoccupied.” 

Busy with helping the devil girl pick out clothes and even more clothes. Until both their arms, and his chair, were filled with bags from both thrift shops and designer boutiques like the one they were in. When she said she expected the best, it's more like she expected everything she wanted. Marinette had insisted on getting his opinion on certain outfits and articles. While his father was a fashion mogul, Adrien didn’t have the same eye. Eventually Marinette gave up on his opinion, opting to use him as a mule and his debit card. She was a kid in the candy store at each shop they visited. Her face lit up with a childish and joyous light. 

“That’s no excuse. What are you doing and where are you? I’ll send him to your location right away.” Gabriel said. 

“Adrien which one do you think suits me better?” Marinette walked over to him, holding up two similar sundresses. One red and one green.

“The red one.” He said, remembering her red eyes and the red witchmark. Red seemed to be her color. 

“Who is that that you are talking to, Adrien?”

Now was a better time than the others. His father was on the phone and poised for the knowledge he was about to drop. “That would be Marinette. She’s an exchange student at school. Father, I actually have something to tell you.”

“Did you get yourself a girlfriend?” His father guessed. 

“No no no. It’s nothing like that. It's just that,” How was he going to phrase it? “I was hoping it would be alright if she stayed with us for the school year. I actually already told the school that we could do it.” 

Gabriel sighed, “What do you mean? Doesn’t she have a host family expecting her?”

“Actually, her host family fell through last minute and she was already here. So, the principle asked around the student body for anyone else that could take her in. I offered our house. Because it’s big and we have the extra space. I’m sorry I didn’t ask before agreeing to it, but it was kind of an impulsive decision. She also lost her luggage on the trip over, so I’m taking her out to buy some clothes, so she’ll have something to wear.” 

“Adrien. I’m not happy that you made this decision without consulting me or Natalie first. But, we can’t leave the girl out on the street, I guess, so she can stay with us. But this is the only time I’ll let something like this slide. Next time you must ask before doing something so rash and foolish. And the next time the answer will be no, so don’t think of ever doing anything like this again.” 

“I won’t father. I promise.” 

“Now, call your bodyguard so he can pick you and the exchange student up. I’ll see you at home tomorrow morning.”

“I thought you weren’t getting back until the evening.” 

“With a new girl living in our house, I made Natalie change the train so that we can depart tomorrow in the early morning. I’m going to need to meet this girl. Adrien, I’m very mad and disappointed with you for this, but I won’t take it out on the girl. We are definitely having a talk when I come back, however.” 

“Yes, father.”

Gabriel ended the call. He typed a quick message to the Gorilla about his location. Adrien sunk back into his wheelchair, throwing his head back. He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes, he jolted. Surprised to see Marinette’s face only mere inches from his own. This close to her, he could make out the freckles more clearly that dotted across the bridge of her nose. She held out her hand wantonly. 

“I need that plastic money.” 

“Debit card.” 

“Yes, that.” She cocked her head to the side. In an almost feline way. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you say that something is wrong? Maybe I could be perfectly fine.” 

She took the proffered card, slipping it into her palm. “Something made you upset. And it isn’t at me this time. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t really care.” 

Marinette skipped over to the register and slammed the card down on the counter. The associate placed everything in tissue paper before placing them in bags. When she returned, she had two new bags hanging from her arms. As they left the shop, a black luxury van pulled up to the curb. The Gorilla opened the back ramp from Adrien and he wheeled himself up. He ignored the confused and worried looks of his bodyguard. A part of him felt guilty about drugging the broad shouldered, stoic man. Marinette followed, standing beside him. Instead of taking a seat up front next to the driver and bodyguard. The door slammed closed behind them. 

They returned back to the Agreste mansion. The Gorilla helped Adrien out of the car, grabbing the fifteen or more bags and hauling them inside. Marinette, practically giddy, spun light on her heels, following the two men inside. The Gorilla showed her to the guest room, across the hall from Adrien’s own room, as Adrien wheeled himself into his bedroom. 

He stood out of the chair, relishing in the feeling of standing and walking. A sensation he swore he would never take for granted like he did originally. Adrien walked over to his triple screened computer and opened the school registration website up.

If Marinette was going to be an exchange student, she actually had to go to school. The devil might not be happy about it. But it was necessary. 

“I like him.” 

Adrien jumped out of his chair. He whipped around to find Marinette lounging on his white leather couch. Her head on the seat cushion. Legs thrown over the arm. 

“Who?”

“The driver. He’s nice.” She thumbed through a magazine that had been sitting on the coffee table. “And the fact that he is a witch helps me to trust him a bit more too.” 

“He’s not a witch.” Adrien scoffed. “That’s impossible. He’d be dead if my father found out.”

“I know a witch when I see one. It’s a devil thing. My guess is that he would be a witch of Nooroo. He’s quiet and subservient. Much like that devil.” 

Adrien stalked over to her, enjoying the way it felt to be able to do that. He leaned against his elbows on the back of the couch. “You’re wrong.” 

“Now that’s impossible.” Marinette set the magazine down. “Magic calls to magic. I know if someone is a witch and I’m never wrong. Trust me on this.” 

“Trust a devil. Sounds like a smart plan.” 

“You already did once.” She jutted out her chin. 

“On Monday, you’re going to go to school with me. I got you registered. Now we just have to hope my father doesn’t call the school to ask about you and figure out that I lied about your identity. Speaking of my father, he will be home tomorrow. And he wants to meet you.” 

“The great witchfinder general. I can’t wait. This is the fun I’ve been looking for.” A smirk spread across her lips. 

He stared her down. Green bore into blue. “No. You can’t do anything to him. He’s my father. I don’t know what you’re thinking but by the looks of it I’m not going to like it.” 

“Oh, c’mon. It could be fun. Maybe try out some of that new magic of yours on him. His very own son is a witch and living under his nose. The irony. You could be the one to take him down.” 

“No.” 

“No fun,” Marinette pouted. 

“Also, I’m never going to use any of this magic you say I have.”

She bolted upright at that, “What? I gave you arcane power and you’re going to not use it? Are you an idiot?” 

“I never wanted it. I don’t like magic and I don’t trust it.” 

“You used it before. To summon me.”

“That was because it was a necessity. I’m never going to do it again. I swear.” 

Marinette shrugged and settled back into the couch cushions, “We’ll see about that. But that’s also no fun. I go myself a witch that won’t even use magic. I sure can pick them.” 

“I picked you, remember. I summoned you.” Adrien rounded the couch. “We’re going to have to talk about some house rules, Marinette. First of all, no more calling me a witch or calling yourself a devil. Under no circumstance are you going to be doing magic when my father or anyone else is home. I don’t even want you doing it if you’re home alone.” 

“You can’t deny nature.”

“I mean it.” 

“Alright. What do I get out of it if I follow these inane rules?”

“A safe and warm place to sleep. With as much food as you could possibly want.”

She pursed her lips, “Tempting. But not enough. I need something particularly interesting. I’m here for a good time, don't forget.” 

“Ok, how about this. Outside of the house, as long as you’re smart about it, you can do whatever you want. Have that freedom. Except for calling me a witch. I still don’t like that.” 

“Whatever I want?” Her blue eyes glowed with mischief. “Are you sure you want to make that deal?” 

No. Adrien really didn’t. “If you agree to also listen to me when I ask something of you, then yes I make that deal.” 

“Alright,” Marinette grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, bringing his face before her own. She gave him a soft chaste kiss against his lips. 

“Why do you do that?” Adrien asked when she let him go. He could still feel her mouth on his. Luckily, he didn’t pass out this time. 

“Do what?”

“Kiss me when we do a deal.”

Marinette grinned, “It helps to create a seal on the deal. But that one was just for show. We didn’t make a real contract, like the other one, as there was no magic behind it. I just agreed to your terms. I’m not magically bound to it or anything.” 

She grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him onto the couch. Adrien’s back hit the cushions as she sat on his chest. Her knees on either side of his head, holding it in place. He felt the magic crackle off her skin like lightning. Red sparks danced along her arms and legs and throat. Adrien tried to struggle from beneath her, but found he couldn’t move. 

“Listen here, Adrien, I’ve been playing nice today, but that won’t always last. I’m your master. Your devil. You listen to me and you obey me. As you can see, or rather feel, you can’t move. I have used my command as your devil to make your body listen to me. I’m the one in charge here. You’re not allowed to make demands of me, that isn’t how this exchange works. I own you, your soul. I don’t like being told what to do. If you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, I won’t humor you.” She leaned down close to his ear and growled. “I will kill you. I will skin you while you watch, feeling everything, and feast on your organs. Then your soul will remain by my side, as a slave, for all of eternity, to watch as I kill your father and everyone else in this house along with your friends and that little witch that got you the components to summon me. Got it?” 

“Ye--yes.” He croaked out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, my devil.” 

Marinette climbed off him. His body stubbornly refused to move. He could only watch as she disappeared out of his room. As the door clicked softly shut, the tightness in his muscles relaxed and he could move again. 

Adrien curled his knees up to his chest. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes as he stared out at nothing. He wrapped his arms around himself. A deep shuddering breath escaped through his chapped lips. He shook as every muscle was released and he had control over himself. A weight pressed down on his chest, feeling almost as heavy as Marinette had been as she pinned him. But this time he knew the tightening knot in his gut wasn’t from her magic, but from his own fear.

How could he have forgotten? How could he let her willingness to listen and seeming kindness get to his head? How could he be such an idiot? 

Adrien’s best friend’s word came back to him. His kind warning and soft, brown face looked out for Adrien. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ ‘Once you do this you can’t go back.’

He could still feel those sparks and the cold, dead look in her eye as she spoke to him. Nothing there. No feeling. Not a spark of humanity or empathy behind the well of blue. He knew she would do it. Everything she threatened. He felt it in the magic that vibrated off her skin. Deadly and itching to strike like an asp. 

He pulled himself from the fetal position on the couch. Marinette never returned to his room that night and he was glad. As he shed himself of his clothes and started the bath. Adrien stepped into the hot water. The cream colored bubbles lapped at his chest as he stretched out in the porcelain. He wiggled his toes. Still amazed that he was able to do it. He would have to show his father tomorrow. Show everyone. Hopefully they would believe that it was a miracle and that the years of physical therapy and rehab had helped his destroyed nerves recover. 

A little voice in the back of his mind nagged at him. It asked him if he regretted giving his soul over to the devil. Adrien didn’t. He might have the most powerful devil living under the same roof as him, owning his soul, but he wouldn’t have not made that deal. 

Every inch of his being screamed that at him.


	4. Chapter 4

When Adrien woke up that morning, he crawled out of bed languidly. The sun barely rose above the horizon. It still clung to the earth in a way that Adrien could sympathize with. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Quickly dressing in black sweatpants and an oversized Jagged Stone t-shirt, he stepped out of his room. He looked back and forth. His head popped out the door frame like a cartoon criminal. 

He tip-toed towards the guest bedroom. His legs were strong and stable beneath him. Stronger than he’d felt them in years. Adrien loved the feeling, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He jumped lightly. Feet barely skimmed off the ground, but they still caught him. With a sharp knock on the door to the guest room, he turned the handle, pushing the door open. 

The room looked like it always did. Pearly white, untouched walls with gold crown molding and floor to ceiling windows on the far wall like his own room. A large four poster bed draped in white sheer silk. Two twin dark wood wardrobes stood against the opposing wall with a heavy cherry oak desk tucked between them. Everything in the room looked stale and unlived in. Nothing seemed out of place or touched during the night. The sheets and duvets still snapped tight against the queen size mattress. 

“Fuck.” Adrien tugged at his blond hair and ran out of the guest bedroom. 

His feet caught on the oriental rug in the hall, almost tripping him. He grabbed onto the wall and steadied himself. Adrien searched every room in the house, from his own to his bedroom to the kitchen to the basement wine cellar to his father's office to even knocking on the door to the Gorilla’s room to ask if he’d seen her. Marinette was found in none of the rooms in the mansion. 

He heaved a breath, catching it from running. His legs began to ache from extension. The muscles in his long limbs still fresh and easily worn out. 

“Wait,” Adrien said to himself. “If she isn’t here, that means she must’ve left. And if she left and isn’t going to be staying here...that means she isn’t my problem anymore. Thank god. I don’t have to deal with her anymore. It’s a miracle.” 

A whistle interrupted his mumbling. Adrien whipped his head around. His gaze dropped to the small feminine figure behind him. 

“Wow,” Marinette drawled. A glass of amber liquid that he could only assume was some type of liquor swirled in her hand. “No love lost I see. I thought you would be happy to find me gone, but to actually thank a god. That stings.” She took a long sip. 

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” He cocked a blond brow.

“It isn’t if you never went to sleep.”

“Well for everyone else, it looks like you just woke up to pour yourself a glass.” Adrien said, moving forward towards her. “And I don’t want--” He quickly shut his own mouth. Marinette’s words from the night before rang through his head. 

“Don’t want what?” Marinette narrowed her gaze, downing the last of the glass. “Spit it out. Tell me what it is you don’t want.” She said when Adrien continued to say nothing. Her nails tapped against the glass. The only sound in the hall except for the heart beat that pushed against his eardrums. 

Adrien closed the distance between them, standing only a few steps away from her. “May I make a request?”

Marinette pursed her lips. Face contorted in confusion before going back to her normal look of disinterested amusement. 

“Go for it, pretty boy.” She said. 

“Would you mind not drinking my father’s alcohol this early in the morning, in front of everyone?” He held her gaze. “Please?” Adrien added when she said nothing. 

Marinette thrust the glass into his chest, “I could consider it. Especially because you asked so nicely. Looks like you’re more trainable than I thought. Also, I’m going out today. By myself.” She added the last bit when Adrien opened his mouth. “We might be bound, but I need my own time and space. I know that I might be hard to resist, but you’re going to have to try.” Marinette cupped his cheek, tapping it. 

“Where are you going?”

“Out like I said.” Marinette turned on her heel. “I haven’t seen Paris by myself in a long time. I think it's time I see how it’s changed. I always did love it here.” 

“Just,” Adrien moved to grab her wrist, but dropped his hand to his side. Again her words rippled through his memory. Even though she had the habit of touching him casually, he didn’t want to piss her off by returning the sentiment. Just in case. “Please, be careful and smart.” 

Marinette turned around and flashed him an innocuous grin, “Aren’t I always?” 

Hours past before Adrien saw her again. He’d been watching the clock, waiting for the inevitable arrival of both his father and the devil. Adrien chewed on the inside of his cheek. Leg bounced in the wheelchair. He assumed he should be going running around before showing his father how he could walk. Also he’d have to fake being weaker, like the first day he’d had his legs back, if he wasn’t going to catch his father’s curiosity. 

Adrien sat at his three monitors. Pencil scratched away on the worksheet in front of him. His brow furrowed with a deep crease marking his golden skin. 

A knock on his door pulled him from his concentration a couple hours past midday. Natalie stood in the doorway. Dark hair tied into a tight bun on the crest of her skull, showing off the red streak he was always surprised his father let her keep. It seemed to go against the poised and prim image the Gabriel brand, and Natalie, prided themselves on. 

“Your father and I have arrived, Adrien.” Her words slipped and to the point. 

“I see that.” 

Natalie eyed her tablet clasped tightly in her grup, “Your father wanted to talk to you. He requested that I fetch you.”

“What’s he want to talk about?” He asked. Natalie gave him a look that read ‘you know exactly what he wants to talk about’. “Ok. Is he in his office?”

“Yes.” Adrien rolled past her and down the ramp. His father’s office was on the first floor of the mansion, separated by two large steel doors. He heard the clip of Natalie’s heels as she pulled on the golden handles of the doors and opened them for him. Adrien normally hated when other people did simple tasks for him, but now was no time to complain. 

“Hello, father.” 

Adrien pulled up to the large oak desk. His father’s back to him as he stared at the painting of his mother, Emilie Agreste, that rested along the wall. Behind that very painting, he knew, housed his father’s collection of witch hunting weapons and tools, a panic room, and a cell to keep witches in. Adrien swallowed hard, staring at his father’s slim back. 

Gabriel’s sigh spread through Adrien’s bones and sunk into the marrow. “Why’d you have to go and do this? Without even asking me?” 

“I just thought it was something that we could do easily.” 

“Have I taught you nothing?” Gabriel ripped his head around. His lips pulled back in a snarl. “I can’t have you doing things like this. I thought I taught you to always come to me before being this stupid. I can’t believe you did something like this. You can’t just do whatever pleases you wherever you want it. How dare you think that this was ever going to alright with me? How dare you bring a stranger into this house without consulting me first! Do you think I have the time to play host and father to a stray girl that you found on the step? Because I don’t. I have a lot on my plate. More than a boy like you could ever understand.” 

Words spoken and not spoken. Adrien could still remember the lecture that he got over four years ago when he woke up after the car accident. More yelling. More tears. More cursing. His father calling him worthless and useless and unwanted replayed in his head when he found out Emilie was gone and his only son might never be able to walk. The way Gabriel had said that it would be better if he were...Adrien cut his train of thought short. Before it could continue down that dark rabbit hole.

“Father--”

“No. I don’t want to hear any excuses. I don’t want to hear anything out of you for the rest of the evening. Maybe for the next few days. I don’t even want to see your face.”

“But father,” Adrien gripped the handles on the wheelchair, bracing himself to stand. “I need you--”

“You are not to ask anything of me right now, Adrien.” Gabriel rounded the desk and grabbed him by the collar. He raised his hand as if to strike Adrien. Gabriel stopped short, letting his hand drop to his side. He straightened out his suit and cleared his throat. 

Adrien turned in his chair to see Marinette standing in the doorway. An innocent, unseemingly look on her face. Like she didn’t see exactly what his father planned on doing. Or heard every word. 

“Hello.” She chirped. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, sir. I’m so sorry if I am. I only came by because I’d arrived back and Adrien told me that you would be wanting to speak with me.”

“Of course, dear, please come in. Take a seat.” Gabriel returned to his side of the desk and gestured at one of the plush leather armchairs. Marinette plopped into the chair, tucking the skirt beneath her legs and crossed them at the ankles. “Miss?”

“You can call me Marinette. No need to be fancy and formal. After all, you were gracious enough to let me stay in your home.” Marinette bowed her head slightly. “Thank you so much for that. It's almost hard to believe that someone could live in a house this nice. It’s almost overwhelming. I really appreciate all the kindness you both have shown me and if there is anything I can do to make this stay easier, please don’t be afraid to ask. All I want is to make sure that I don’t cause you any trouble. I could do chores or cook my own meals if that would make things easier. Even though I feel like I might already be overstepping my bounds. Which I apologize for again if I did.”

If he hadn’t known the devil beneath the pretty girl act, he would’ve assumed she was an innocent, possibly oblivious teenage girl with nothing malicious ever on her mind. Adrien had to respect her acting skills. He was almost moved to believe the girl-next-door facade.

“We are happy to have you Marinette. Please, you don’t need to worry about chores or meals in this house. We are here to make your stay in Paris the best it can be.” 

“And I really appreciate it, M. Agreste.” Marinette nodded vigorously. “It’s almost like a dream to be in this big city. I’m very excited to be able to study here.”  
“I hope that Adrien has been a good host and been showing you a bit of the city.” Gabriel glared his son down. 

Marinette clasped her hands together. A wide grin on her face. “Oh, he has. He’s been absolutely wonderful. Quite the gentleman. I couldn’t ask for a better host to show me the city. He said that later this week he’ll take me up onto the top of the Eiffel Tower and to some museums like the Louvre and the catacombs. I couldn’t be more excited.”

“That’s very nice to hear.” Gabriel entwined his hands behind his back. “I’m so sorry to cut the conversation short, but I have some work to get done before tomorrow. I sadly won’t be able to join you both for dinner.”

“Please don’t worry about it.” She jumped out of her chair. “I didn’t mean to take up too much of your time. I’m so sorry. Please have a nice evening M. Agreste.” 

Marinette settled behind Adrien, turning his chair to face the door. She pushed him out the doors and shut them behind her back. They returned to his bedroom in utter silence. The ridiculous look that she had plastered on her face continued. It made him sick to his stomach. Adrien knew she must be planning something, but what it was, he couldn’t place his finger on. 

Once he heard the door of his bedroom click closed he jumped out of the chair and turned around to face her. “Ok, what was that?”

“What was what?” She gave him the same smile she gave his father. 

“Please stop that. It's disturbing.” 

“Alright, alright.” Marinette dropped into his wheelchair. Legs thrown over the armrest. She picked at the dirt under her nails with a look of nonchalance on her beautiful features. “So, that’s the new witchfinder general? They really tend to be all the same.” 

“What do you mean? You mean the ones from other places. You’ve met them?”

“Nope. I have no idea what those are like. I’m talking about the ones in the past. He’s very similar to the last witchfinder general I killed. What was his name again? They all tend to blend together. I’ve had the pleasure of slaughtering a couple of them over the centuries. I bet he’d scream and beg like the rest of them. They always do.” She didn’t look up from her nails. Nor did her face change as she talked about killing his father. 

“Please don’t.” 

“Don’t?”

“Please don’t kill him.”

Marinette looked up from her nails, cocking her head to the side. She stared at him. Her mouth opened and shut a couple of times before she found her words. “You don’t want him dead? Really? He’s a giant asshole. And from the looks of it he was going to hit you.” 

“I don’t want him dead. He’s my father. I love him. And I know he loved me.” Adrien dropped his head into his hands. He looked at her through his fingers. “You seemed to show up at the right time, though.” 

She snorted, “Love? That’s some way to show it.” Marinette rested her head on the back of the chair, staring up at him through her long dark lashes. “I felt that you were in danger. You’re fear spiked. So, I thought I should make my way back.” 

“Wait. What do you mean you felt that I was in danger?” 

“We have a bound, remember? How many times do I have to repeat myself? Does it go in one ear and out the next?” She sighed. The breath knocked her bangs from her eyes. “If the feels are strong enough then I can get a little sensation that tells me about them. And you could feel mine too if they got strong enough. It's mostly things about fear and danger. Things that get your adrenaline up. It's a safety mechanism. So, if one of us were about to die, the other could find us and save us from a pitiful end.” 

“I could feel your emotions?”

“Didn’t I say that? Were you even listening?”

“How will I know if I do?”

“Don’t worry too much about it. You won’t ever have to use it nor will it probably ever happen to you. Because I would have to be in a state of heightened emotions, and you won’t be so lucky to ever see me like that. I’m a High King. Nothing can scare me like that.” 

“So, you’re never afraid?”

“Nope. Never.” Marinette smirked. “Not when you are the boogeyman that people tend to tell scary stories about.” 

Adrien scratched at the back of his neck, “Um, just so you know, we have school tomorrow.” 

“Oh, I know. I’m excited.” 

“I know you don't--wait, what? You’re excited to go?”

Marinette nodded slowly, “I think it's going to be fun. And even if school itself is boring, I can mess with you if I get bored. I’ll always have my little plaything should I need it.” 

“Why’d I summon you again?”

“You have to ask yourself that,” She chuckled. “Maybe not the smartest decision you ever made. But it will be an interesting one.”

“For you.”

“Exactly.” 

Marinette stood and walked towards Adrien. She cupped his cheek and pressed the pad of her thumb between his brows. He flinched away from her touch before accepting it. Her hand was soft and arm as it pressed against the blond stubble forming along his jaw. He expected the sharpness of her nails or the sizzle of magic, but neither came. 

“What are you doing?” Adrien caught her gaze. He found her bluebell eyes open and staring back at him. His breath caught in his throat. Heart palpitated against his sternum. 

Her voice barely audible as she spoke, “He should never have made you feel that way. A father shouldn’t do that to his own son. And I’m sorry. I made you feel the same way.” Marinette turned away from him and sauntered out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Her face had the beginning of a flush along the apple of her cheeks. 

Adrien collapsed onto his couch. Elbows pressed onto the top of his thighs as a rest for his head. “I don’t understand her.” He muttered to himself. 

His heart slowly regained its normal beat. Adrien thought about following her, about asking her why she suddenly apologized. If she actually meant it. A part of him knew he didn’t need to ask the last one. He had seen it in the sincerity in her eyes. 

At dinner later that night, she seemed her normal self. Marinette teased him and joked around with him. She devoured her food, enjoying the pesto crusted sea bass with wasabi mashed potatoes and fried shallots in a thai chili butter sauce. Her eyes went wide in happiness as she scraped up every last piece of fish and potato. Adrien couldn’t find himself bringing up their moment earlier. Instead, he let it pass without comment. 

As he said goodnight to the devil, and wheeled himself back up to his bedroom, it still swirled around in his head. 

One moment she looked ready to kill him. The next she apologized for it. 

Adrien never thought that he would hear her apologize. Let alone after only knowing her for forty eight hours. He got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and stripping to his boxers. Running water over his face, he rubbed at his temples and brow. His fingers brushed over the spot on his forehead where the ladybug witchmark was stamped into his skin. Adrien couldn’t see it in the mirror. The spell that Marinette had used kept it from his own sight. Maybe that was for the best. Otherwise he might now know if the spell wore off or was broken. Also, it would take some adjustment to see a tattoo on his face that he hadn’t ever planned on having. 

He collapsed into bed and set the alarm on his phone. Early enough to give himself time to shower and make sure that Marinette got up in time. Adrien rolled onto his stomach, stuffing his face into the pillow.

His mind replayed the conversations with Marinette over and over against his closed eyelids. There were so many things he still didn’t understand about being a witch. Let alone about devils themselves. Maybe this erratic, fickle behavior was normal for devils and he didn’t know. 

Adrien formulated a plan as he drifted into unconsciousness. He would talk to Alya tomorrow. And ask her all the questions he had of witches and devils.


	5. Chapter 5

The alarm knocked him into consciousness against his will. Adrien slammed his hand against the nightstand, aiming for his phone. It turned off and he turned back over, away from the pestering device.  


A finger poked the hollow of his cheek, “Wake up, sleepyhead. We have school, remember?” 

Adrien’s eyes burst open and he turned in the direction of Marinette. She stared down at him from the side of his bed. She was on her knees and hands as she perched herself over him. Marinette poked him in the face a couple more times. He grabbed at her wrist, making her stop.

“Alright, I’m awake.”

“Took you long enough. That device has been beeping for a while now. I thought you’d never hear it. I could hear it from the other room.” 

“I’m surprised you’re awake.” Adrien threw the covers off himself and sat up. His back to her. “I thought you’d try to sleep through school.”

“Like I said, I’m excited to try out this high school thing.” The last words feel out of her mouth without her paying attention to them. Her eyes glued to his bare back. “Beautiful.” Marinette trailed her fingertips feathersoft along his back and spine, along the raised skin and scars. 

Adrien twisted and grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly, “Don’t touch.” 

“Who did that to you?” She didn’t try to take her hand back. Instead, he noticed how he still had it and let it go. 

“I did it to myself.” 

Marinette shook her head, “Impossible. Such exquisite scarring had to have been caused by an outside source.”

“It was a car crash. I might not have been the one driving or the one who hit us, but my bad luck was the cause. It had to be.”

“Do they still hurt?”

“No. But they sometimes itch. And I don’t particularly like them or people touching them.”

She held her hands up on either side of her head, as if in surrender, “For scar tissue, they are really pretty and delicate. They’re nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Adrien snorted. A harsh, joyless laugh escaped through his tight lips, “Of course a devil would find my scars beautiful.” He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

The shower started and he stepped into it, letting it hit his shoulders. Adrien scrubbed his hair and along his back and sides, not thinking about the scars she had pointed out. The physical reminder of the event that took his mother from his. Adrien turned the water and stayed in the tile shower. He leaned his palms against the cool, black tile and fisted his hands. 

He brushed his teeth and combed through his shaggy blond locks. Adrien left the bathroom. A fluffy white towel tied high on his waist. He escaped into his walk-in closet, ignoring the devil that continued to sit on his bed. 

Adrien tossed on a pair of black skinny jeans with rips through the knees and torn hems with a graphic t-shirt from his favorite video game, Mecha Strike III. He slipped his feet into designer sneakers and tied his still wet hair up into a knot at his nape. Adrien opened the door to head back to his bedroom, eyeing the wheelchair that sat beside his bed. He looked at it with disdain, mixed with nostalgia. He’d been confined to that chair for over four years. It had conformed to the shape of his behind and adjusted specifically for him. 

“Are you going to fake it again today? You didn’t exactly get the chance to tell your father that you could walk, so it might seem a bit strange.” Adrien said nothing. Marinette shrugged. “Do what you want. I think you should say fuck it and walk out of here like its perfectly normal for you to.” 

“Of course you would.” He laughed through his nose. “But I’m not going to do that. I’m going to continue using the wheelchair until I have the right time to tell everyone.” 

Marinette stood, placing a hand on a jutted hip. She wore high waisted pink jeans with pearl buttons along each side. A cream colored off the shoulder peasant shirt tucked into the waistband. Her slender feet slipped into black patent leather, platform mary-janes. Long dark hair plaited into two twin braids on either side of her head. She rolled her eyes and took up behind the chair. 

He took a seat in the chair, about to turn himself when Marinette took the reins and ran them out of the room. Adrien gripped the arm rests as she peeled out of his bedroom and shoved the both of them down the ramp, lifting up her feet to catch a ride on the back. 

She leaned in close to his ear, “At least I could make it a little fun.” 

Marinette spun them around in circles, doing doughnuts in the foyer. She tipped him back, making him feel as if he would tumble out the seat. Marinette shoved him around and around as she picked up momentum before letting him go correning through the room on his own. He pulled the break that would slam a bar down on the tire, skidding to a stop and almost colliding with the antique vase that sat near the front door. 

His heart beat a million miles a minute, like a stampede of horses had taken up racing against the inside of his ribcage. Adrien took a couple of deep breaths. In his nose and out through his mouth. 

“I don’t call that fun. Can you stop please?” 

“Spoil sport.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Are you two ready for school?” Natalie called from the top of the stair. Her tablet tucked beneath her elbow. 

“Yes, Miss Natalie.” Marinette clapped her hands together excitedly. “We can’t wait.” 

The three of them piled into the van. Adrien in the very back, as it was the only spot he could fit inside of his wheelchair. Marinette sat in the backseat, beside Natalie. The two girls had an animated conversation that Adrien didn’t particularly listen to. Natalie was more lively and expressive than he’d seen her before. That was almost enough to make him want to pay attention to their conversation. Almost. 

Instead, on the car ride, he rehearsed exactly what he was going to say to Alya and exactly what he needed to ask of her. Over and over he ran the simulation in his head. One point became obviously clear. Unless he wanted to be turned into a bumblebee or a mayfly he would have to avoid telling Alya the fact that he had summoned his own devil and that she happened to now be going to school with them. 

When they pulled up to the high school, Marinette waited near the back of the van for him as the ramp was placed and he wheeled himself down.

“Wouldn’t it be so much easier to show them that you can walk?” She whispered into his ear. 

“I’m used to doing things like this. It’s fine.” 

“Then why did you ask me to fix it if it was fine?” She pointed out. Her breath tickled the cusp of his ear, sending a shiver down his back.

Natalie waved them off from the backseat of the car. The window rolled up as she, and the Gorilla, pulled away. Adrien watched the car pull into traffic with ease before turning to face the school. He ignored Marinette’s pointed look as he wheeled himself up the ramp to the side and in through the side doors. The devil walked close on his heels. 

The large common space opened up for them. Benches lined the walls around the large cement floored room with classrooms lining the balcony spaces multiple stories up. A small elevator, able to fit Adrien in his chair and maybe one other person, occupied a far off corner. 

“Hey, dude.” A familiar voice caught his attention. Nino, a red cap over his dark coiled hair, large over the ear headphones pushed down to his neck, waved at him from one of the benches. He bounded over to them, greeting Adrien with a fist pump. “I haven’t heard from you all weekend. You worried the crap out of me. I thought--” He stopped short, looking over to Marinette who stood next to Adrien. 

She gave him her perfect, charming smile that had the ability to make an army drop their weapons at their feet. “I’m Marinette. I’m new here. And you are?” 

“Nino. Adrien’s best bud.” He took her outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you think that Adrien and I could talk in private?”

“Oh, I don’t mean to intrude. Of course I’ll let you two talk.” Marinette flashed another beautiful, disarming smile and sauntered off to explore more of the school. 

“Dude,” Nino grabbed Adrien by the shoulders. “I thought that you had died or something. I mean I was worried sick the entire weekend. And Alya was pestering me about it, but I couldn’t say anything and that worried her more which worried me more. Did you even do it? You don’t look any different.” 

“C’mon, let's go somewhere quiet where we can talk.” 

The two boys entered the locker room, checking under stall doors and behind walls to make sure that it was empty. Once convinced it was empty, Adrien locked the door to make sure no one could interrupt. 

Adrien ran his hands over his face. He looked at the worried, but still curious, expression on his friend’s dark brown face. Nino leaned against the sinks, waiting for Adrien to say something. Anything. Adrien gripped the armrests of the chair and pushed himself to standing. Nino’s mouth dropped to the floor before he quickly shut it. 

“Adrien--” He was cut off as he watched Adrien jump up and down, pace across the room, jog backwards back to the chair, and spin on his toes before taking a seat back on the wheelchair. “It’s a miracle.”

“No. It’s magic. I cast the spell you got me this weekend and it worked. I got my legs back and the curse removed.” 

“It actually worked.” 

“Don’t act so surprised.” 

“Well, you aren’t a witch, so I thought that maybe you wouldn’t be able to cast a spell. How’d it go, dude?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, remembering the feeling of Marinette choking the life out of him and now the fact that the devil was still around to torment him. 

“I got everything I wanted. And then some.” 

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“Ok, so hear me out. I might be a witch now.” He desperately wanted to tell Nino about Marinette, but knew something like that might get back to Alya. And be more detrimental information if it did. “Ok, I’m definitely a witch. But I don’t know what to do about it. So, I was hoping you'd let me talk to Alya about it and ask her a couple questions. She’s been a witch all her life and grew up in a coven, right? She’d be the perfect person to ask.” 

“You’re her friend, too. You don’t have to ask me to talk to her.” 

“But then she might find out you got me the supplies from her house to summon a devil and become a witch. And you said you really didn’t want that to happen. My goal is to seem interested in witches, but not out myself to her.”

“Dude, as long as you don’t throw me under the bus or if I do get turned into an animal, you’ll still be my best friend then I’ll be ok.” 

The bell rang, ending their conversation. They slipped out of the locker room and into the classroom. Adrien stopped dead as he took on the scene before him. 

“Girl, I’m so glad we got put into the same class. You didn’t tell me you went to school here. You’ve got to sit next to me.” Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulder, pulling her into the seat next to her. 

“I’m so glad too, Als, it's so much easier transferring to a new school when I already have a good friend like you to support me.” Marinette leaned on Alya’s shoulder, but her gaze stayed squarely on Adrien. “I know I’ve only known you since yesterday, but it makes me so happy. Hey, Adrien, where do you sit?”

“You know each other?” Alya asked.

“Yeah. The Agreste’s are letting me stay at their house for the school year since my other host family pulled out on me. They’ve been so kind.” 

“I didn’t know that you two knew each other.” Adrien rolled into his spot in the first row, right in front of Marinette. He turned around to watch her as she talked. Nino took up his spot in front of his girlfriend. 

“We met yesterday--” Marinette started. 

“I ran into her at a small bookstore in town, off the Seine. We were both looking for the same book and found it at the same time. She almost hit me in the face with it by accident. Mari apologized of course, saying how clumsy she is.” 

“Then we decided to hang out for a little bit and get food at a small cafe near the bookstore and hit it off.” 

“Did you fix whatever issue you had yesterday?” Alya turned to Marinette.

“Oh yes. It wasn’t a big deal. I was worried about an important meeting I had to go to and I had a bad feeling that got me super anxious about the whole thing. Everything's alright now.” 

The teacher called everyone to attention and began the lecture. Adrien barely listened to her, looking back often enough to check on Marinette. Each time he did she would make a face or stick out her tongue or wink at him. Most of the class went by that way. 

Adrien could hear Alya turning to whisper something to Marinette, causing her to giggle beneath a hand, but missed what was said. He turned around and caught Alya’s raised brow and inquisitive gaze instead as she ducked her head in front of Marinette’s face. 

“Dude,” Nino leaned towards him, lowering his voice so only his seat mate could hear. “What are you doing?”

Adrien scratched at the back of his neck, “It’s nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re fidgeting like crazy and you keep looking behind you. I can practically feel Alya trying to stare the questions about it into the back of my head. Oh, and she texted me to ask you.” He pulled out his phone, showing Adrien the text message between him and his girlfriend. 

“Sorry. I’m worried about Marinette. It’s her first day.” 

“She seems fine to me. Alya and her are fast friends. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got to be best friends.” 

“That can’t happen.” The words fell out of his mouth quickly. 

“Why not?” 

“Uh, because she won’t be sticking around. Marinette’s an exchange student.”

“That won’t stop Alya. You know her.” 

The teacher cleared her throat, causing Adrien to sit up straighter in his seat. He turned his attention forward and caught a slight glare from the teacher. The bell rang, dispersing the students. Adrien caught Marinette’s bicep before she could evade and disappear to her next class. 

“What’s your next class?” He asked. “Actually can I see your schedule?”

Alya dipped between, breaking Adrien’s hold on Marinette. A scowl contorted her pretty features. “Don’t worry about it, sunshine. She’s a big girl and can take care of herself. No need to freak out.” 

“Sunshine? I like that.” Marinette’s eyes glistened. 

“Been calling him that for years.” Alya turned her brown eyes to Marinette.

“How long have you guys known each other? You have to tell me everything. We have the next class together, Als, you can spill all the juicy tidbits and secrets. Maybe I’ll find something to use for blackmail.”

Alya linked her arm with dark haired girl’s, “I’ll tell you everything you can use against him. I’ve known that kid since we were both eleven years old.” 

“I can’t wait.” She threw a look over her shoulder specifically for Adrien. The smirk and mischievous glow in her gaze had him swallowing hard. 

“You’re totally screwed, dude. Alya’s going to tell her everything.” 

“I’m more worried for Alya than I am for Marinette.” Adrien muttered under his breath. 

“What was that?” 

“I said that I should be worried about what rumors Alya might be spreading.”

“Hey! My information is all primary sourced and accurate, sunshine.” He heard Alya yell from down the hall. 

“It better be.” He called after her. 

The rest of the morning passed by dangerously slow. Adrien’s knee threatened to jump beneath the desk. He had to suppress the urge when Nino wasn’t sitting next to him, unwilling to accidentally spill his secret because of the anxious tendencies of his legs. 

He met up with Nino and Alya after his last class of the morning. The trio waiting at the bottom of the steps for a certain dark haired beauty. Adrien caught her at the stop of the stairs talking to a red haired boy a couple steps below her. He heard her soft giggle through the air as she leaned in closer to the boy. Her face only inches away. The boy seized up and nodded roughly as he descended the stairs. Adrien caught the sight of a pink flush staining his ears and a lovesick grin as he rushed past the three of them. 

“Mari--” Adrien started.

“Marinette!” A blond haired girl wrapped her arm around Marinette’s. A black haired girl with purple dyed ends stood on the other side of Marinette. They descended the stairs talking in rapid succession. “You have to eat lunch with Juleka and me.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Marinette said. “But I promised Alya that I would have lunch with her today. But I promise we can eat together tomorrow. Or you could join us if you want?” 

“Oh, it’s alright, Marinette. Don’t worry about it. But we would love to eat with you tomorrow.” Rose took Juleka’s arm and dragged them off to a bench to eat their lunch. 

“Popular, aren’t we?” Alya threw her arm onto Marinette’s shoulder. The devil waved to a couple of other people that she recognized and gave them her soft smile.

“I don’t think it’s anything like that. I just want to make as many friends as possible.” She said. Her gaze turned back to Adrien and the questioning look that formed itself on his features. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m trying to be friendly and have some fun.” She drawled out the last word ever so slightly. Only someone who knew exactly what she meant would catch the meaning behind it. She was pointing something out for Adrien. Something that he was missing. 

“Let’s take a seat. I’m starving.” Nino sat at one of the tables. 

Alya seperated herself from Marinette to sit next to him. The chair next to Marinette moved to the side so Adrien could take a place next to her. Adrien pulled out their matching lunches and set one in front of her. Nino and Alya got lost in each other after a couple minutes, giving Adrien a chance to talk to Marinette. 

“What’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?” She asked around a bite of salad. “I’m doing exactly what I said. Playing nice and trying to have fun.”

“This isn’t your type of fun.” Adrien pushed around his own salad with his fork. 

“And how do you know that?”

He gave her an incredulous look, “Because of who you are.”

She learned in close to him, “Because I’m a devil? Well, you wouldn’t be wrong. This wouldn’t exactly be my pick of entertainment, but I’m making the best out of it.”

“Why? What game are you playing at?” He bit out. 

“Where would be the fun in telling you? When I could let you stew and come up with your own littel scenarios and torture yourself with ideas that are probably worse than anything I’m thinking. Or maybe they aren’t.” Marinette wiggled her slender brows at him. 

“Adrikins!” A familiar voice pierced the air. Arms wrapped around Adrien from behind. A kiss pressed against his cheek. 

“Hi, Chloe.” 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. You were stuck with spending time with them,” She gestured dismissively with her hand. “All by yourself. You must’ve missed me.” Chloe moved to sit next to Adrien, like always, only to be blocked by a face she didn’t recognize. “You’re in my way.” 

“Me?” Marinette’s hand played across her chest. “I don’t understand.” Adrien knew that she was lying through her perfect teeth. 

“I always sit next to my Adrikins. That’s how it is. So move.” 

“Your Adrikins?” She shot Adrien a look of amusement. He knew she would be holding this over his head. 

“Chloe, Marinette’s new. Don’t you think you can take the queen bitch attitude down a notch?” Alya rolled her warm brown eyes. “Or are you incapable of trying to talk to people like a decent person?” 

“What was that Cesaire?” Chloe looked ready to rip off Alya’s head. 

“Please, don’t fight because of me.” Marinette held her hands up, trying to defuse the situation. Adrien could tell that she would be more than happy to watch the two girls go at each other’s throat by the gleam in her eye. But that would go against the persona she’d put on to encourage such behavior. 

“Don’t fight, Chlo. It’s not worth the effort. Please. Lunch is almost over, anyways, so it isn’t a big deal.”

Chloe turned on her heel and stalked away. Her blond ponytail swung along her back as she found Sabrina. Alya and Nino got up from the table to clean up their garbage, and Nino probably had to calm down his fuming girlfriend. 

Adrien chuckled under his breath, “Aren’t going to try to befriend her too?” He leaned close to Marinette. 

“Ugh, never. I would never try to be friends with a witch of Pollen. I’d rather choke. Just being around her was disgusting enough on its own.” 

Adrien dropped his fork, looking at her with wide emerald eyes, “What did you just say?” 

“That being around her was disgusting?” She plopped the rest of her salad into her mouth before closing the glass tupperware container. 

“That she’s a witch.” 

“There’s actually a couple of witches that you seem to surround yourself with.” She pulled up her fingers, counting on them. “I’d say that there are about four of them at least in this school. Alya, Chloe--” 

“Stop. I don’t want to know who else.” He clasped his hand over Marinette’s mouth. Adrien knew only of Alya being a witch, and that was only because Nino had insisted that she tell him in case his father ever decided to go after her coven. He could give them a forewarning if he knew what to look out for. “Are you a witch detector or something?”

“I can sense other witches because I can feel the magic of their devils radiating off them. It isn’t that hard. I happen to know all the devils they are contracted to. Pollen being my least favorite. She’s the absolute worst. Always acting all high and mighty. Her egoism and arrogance are unrivaled in the Pits. She also happens to love to spend her time pestering me and bothering me. I wish I killed her.” 

“So, a lot like her witch.” 

“Oh, yes, Adrikins.” Marinette winked. “A lot like her witch.” 

The bell rang overhead and they separated to return to their classes. Adrien wheeled into his spot in the front row. The chair was removed before he even arrived. Alya took her seat beside him, texting rapidly in her phone. 

“Ugh, why are you still friends with her, Adrien?” Alya rested her hand on her palm. Elbow pressed into the desk. “She’s the worst.”

“She’s a childhood friend. I can’t ghost her. She was the only friend I had for a long time.” 

She sighed, “But now you have friends who you actually like. Like Nino and me. And now you have that new girl Marinette. Speaking of her, you two seem awfully close already.” 

“We do live together. It is to be expected.” The tips of his ears burned red at what she was insinuating. “Marinette and I are friends. That’s it.” 

“If you say so, sunshine.” She cocked a manicured reddish brown eyebrow. He ignored the look. Instead, he focused on gaining the courage to ask her what he needed to. 

Adrien leaned in close to whisper, “Do you think that you could do me a favor?”

“Depends on what it is.” 

“I was hoping you could give me a lesson on witches and demons. I’ve got some questions and I don’t really know anything about them. Even if I’m the son of a witch hunter.”

“Speaking of, why don’t you ask him.” Alya had always been reluctant to share with the son of the witchfinder general anything about her witchy secret. She already put a lot of trust in him by letting him know she was a witch in the first place. 

“He’s already told me all the horrible and bad things about witches and why they should be hunted.” Adrien sighed. “But I can’t believe any of those things. I think it's time that I learn some of the good things too.” 

“Ok, tomorrow night. You can come over to my place and we can discuss anything you want about witches, as long as it's not too personal, then I might choose not to give you an answer.” 

“That works for me. Thanks, Als.” 

“You're hella lucky I trust you not to go blabbing to your dad. I know you don’t believe in that archaic bullshit that he prescribes to.”

“And I appreciate it.” 

He nudged her with his shoulder as the class started. She nudged him back playfully. A small smile on her brown face. Adrien matched it.


	6. Chapter 6

Marinette waited for him outside of the high school on their second day of school. Adrien caught her back as he rounded the side of the school. She wore a pleated black skirt with a tanktop and white cardigan buttoned up the front. White knee socks pulled up on her slender legs. Her dark hair spilled down her back like an obsidian waterfall, sparkling with hints of blue in the afternoon sun. She talked to Juleka and Rose. Mostly to Rose, as Juleka seemed more content listening to the two girls. 

He wheeled up to the trio of girls. “Hey, Marinette. I thought I would remind you that I’m going to Alya’s tonight, so I won’t be home.” 

She turned to face him. Her face alight. More golden freckles spotted her skin than before. “I didn’t forget, but thanks for letting me know.” 

“Wait, if you aren’t busy, Mari, would you like to spend the afternoon with Juleka and me? We’re going to her houseboat and would love it if you could come.” 

“I don’t want to intrude.” Says the devil that had taken up root in his home and refused to leave. She definitely didn’t want to intrude.

Adrien choked back a laugh, covering it up with a cough. Marinette shot him a quick glare from the side of her eye that he ignored. 

“You should.” Juleka spoek up from behind the curtain of purple and black hair. 

“You mean it?”

“Totally.” Rose squealed, jumping up and down. 

“I would love to.” She waved at him. “See you tonight, Adrien.” He watched her chase after the two other girls. 

A part of him wondered if he should stop her, but another part of him knew that she wouldn’t do anything. He didn’t know why he decided to put his trust into the devil, but he did. Adrien shook his head, trying to clear the worries and thoughts that clouded his mind. 

“Hey, sunshine.” Alya walked up to him and gave him a two finger salute. She kissed Nino on the cheek and said her goodbyes. “Ready?”

“Yep.” 

They turned down the street, walking, or Adrien’s case, wheeling, in the direction of her house. It was a couple blocks from the school. Enough to feel away from the grounds, but not far enough to need to do anything but walk. They arrived at an apartment complex made out of red brick with small, narrow windows on the outside and ivy that clung to the walls. 

Alya pulled out a key from her backpack, placing it into the first glass door to enter the building. She typed a code into the keypad on the wall next to the mailboxes and the steel door buzzed as it unlocked. Alya pulled it open, holding it for him to move his way inside the building past her. She tapped the button for the elevator and they waited in silence as it slowly descended. Only the sound of the elevator’s engine cut through the quiet. The two steel doors opened in front of them and they got into the ancient metal machine. 

“So, why did you suddenly want to learn more about witches?” Alya asked when the doors closed. 

“I thought it was time to learn about witches from an actual witch for once. Not someone who wants to slaughter them.” 

“Well you came to the right person. My family has been part of a coven for over two hundred years. If there is anything you need to know about witches, I can probably get you the information.” 

“I thought witches had to each make contracts with a devil? You can be born into it?”

The elevator stopped at Alya’s floor and they got off. He followed her down the navy carpeted hall and to the door of her apartment. 

“My mom and dad are still at work. The twins are at an after school program that is put on by the coven and my older sister is doing her afternoon workout so no one is home.” She pushed the door open to her apartment with her hip. They entered the apartment and Adrien wheeled himself into the living room. “And it's different from being born into it, I guess. For prominent witch families you can be raised with magic and all that, but at sixteen you have to make the choice to commit yourself to a contract with the devil. You can either choose your families, another devil, or to not go into a contract and put it off until later, but you tend to lose all connection to magic at that point. I knew that I wanted to follow in my family’s footsteps from a young age and the first chance I got, I made a contract with my family’s coven’s devil.” 

“And which devil is that?” 

“Rena.” Alya’s finger grazed along the bookshelf before pulling out a leather bound tome. She scanned through the pages before opening it up to a picture of two double tailed foxes. One white and one orange. They circled each other, entangling their twin tails. “It’s said that a powerful fox demon called Trixx split herself into two forms. One the orange fox, Rena. The other, the white fox, Volpina.”

“Why would a devil do something like that?”

“No idea. Supposedly, she was powerful enough to be a High King before she split her power. But the book said that one focused on transformations, my coven, while the other focused on complex illusions.” Something to ask Marinette about, Adrien noted. Alya unbuttoned the first couple buttons of her plaid shirt. Adrien covered up. She laughed. “It’s nothing like that, sunshine. I have a boyfriend who I love. I thought you might be interested in seeing my witchmark. It’s on my chest.” 

He removed his hands from his eyes. Right above the line of Alya’s tank top, along the top other right breast, was a small tattoo of an orange fox. The head faced the hollow of her throat with the tail curled beneath it. Or it would have been a tattoo if he didn’t know magic caused it. 

“That’s why you always wear high collared shirts. Why don’t you use magic to hide it or something like that?” 

Alya took the rest of the over shirt off, trying it around her waist, leaving her in a thick strapped black tank top. “Because I’m proud of my witchmark. I only hide it because I have to and using magic to get rid of it seems wrong to me.” 

“What’s your devil, Rena, like?” 

“I don’t really know. I met her once, when I made the contract, but she barely said anything. I haven’t heard anything from her since. Most of the coven never hears from her. She’s not a very demanding devil. She asked almost nothing of me when I made the contract. Only that I use the magic is ways that only I see fit and not to fall to the whims of others. And that should she call, I must listen.” 

Adrien scanned through the book, landing on a page near the back. Barely any words were written, only a couple sentences beside the drawing of a ladybug with its wings spread as if ready to take flight like the mark on his forehead. 

The sentences read: This is the devil of creation, Tikki. One of the two High Kings of the Pits. Nothing else is known about this devil, including how her magic works. 

Below in bold, heavy black ink someone added: Very dangerous and deadly. Don’t summon at any costs.

Alya leaned over his shoulder to eye the page he had turned to. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Taking a seat on the couch, she tilted her head back. Her hands ran through her reddish brown hair, tying it up into a ponytail. 

“Why are you looking at that one?”

“Why is there no information on her?” 

“Because this book was written by witches. That’s all the information that witches have on that devil. It makes sense. She is a High King, so she has to rule the Pits and keep order. And it says that no one should summon her, so maybe she isn’t a fan of making witches. I know that a lot of other witches are weary about anything having to do with the High Kings, and especially Tikki.” 

If Marinette was supposed to be ruling the Pits, why was she on the mortal plane? What was she really after here? Questions spiraled in his mind. 

“How many different devils are there?”

“More than I care to know about. Not all of them are very friendly to the idea of witches or humans in general. I think most have covens somewhere in the world. Or did before the witch hunters got to them.”

Adrien turned to the next page. It had about the same amount of information except the image of a ladybug was replaced with a formless shadow with piercing, radioactive green eyes and dripping black fangs and claws. It had the same basic information as the one before it. 

The page read: Plagg is the devil of destruction. The other High King of the Pits. Not much else is known. His magic lends itself to complete destruction of whatever the caster wishes. Also, known for being the devil to cause bad luck.

Beneath the shadowy form on the page, in sprawling cursive it said: Dead. 

“I heard that you could kill a devil. And that this one was dead. But how exactly do you kill a devil?” 

“I’ve got no idea. It’s hard to believe that anyone could kill a devil. Let alone a High King. But I don’t think anything mortal can kill one. At least that’s what I was always taught.” 

He began to look through the rest of the book. Until he landed on a page with a familiar name staring back at him. Pollen. The image of a wasp on the page. The entire page, and the one acros from it, filled with information on the devil. From how her magic of subjugation works to her favorite food to her personality and opinions, likes and dislikes, to the books authors opinions on the devil. He chuckled under his breath. The authors’ opinions matched that of what Marinette had told him of the devil.

“What else were you taught about the relationship between devils and witches?”

“Well, when I was growing up in the coven, I was told that a couple hundred years ago, there used to be a much stronger connection between devil and witch. Even an empathetic link between the devil and their witch. But now-a-days devils seem to keep to themselves and out of human affairs, at least that’s my experience. Devils can also control a witch without uttering a single word. I’ve never had it happen to me or to anyone in the coven. Devils and demons give us a way to access magic and then use us how they see fit. Your dad should’ve at least told you that. There isn’t much else to know. Or that I really know.”

“Do you use a lot of magic? What does it feel like?”

“I don’t use it that often, but having it is a part of who I am. It has been for as long as I can remember. It feels amazing when I use it.” Alya reached forward, touching the vase of roses on the center of the table. She stared at it for a moment before the roses blossoms spun and closed in on themselves, shriveling up. The blooms sprouted open again, this time white easter lilies in their place. “My coven focuses on transmogrification and forms.” 

“I know that. Nino joked about you turning him into a turtle if he ever cheated on you or forgot an anniversary.” 

“That boy better not even think about it. Because if he did he would be spending the rest of his life as a small reptile.” Alya grinned devilishly. “But magic isn’t something that you can still use for free. It takes time and effort. The more difficult or powerful the spell the more draining it is on your physical and mental state. The more you practice and the more you use magic, the better you get at it and the less it takes it out on your body. You thinking of becoming a witch, sunshine?” 

Adrien almost choked. “No. Nothing like that. Just curious.” 

She eyed him suspiciously. A look he’d seen many times before. A look that told him that she had something on her mind and formulated her own conclusions. Probably ones that weren’t in his favor and lended more to getting him turned into a small reptile. Hopefully she wouldn’t act on her suspicions until she had more information. Maybe he could keep her from getting any more information.

“Doesn’t seem like something that you would be into. But if you do, come to me first, so we can talk about it and find the right devil for you. I know it must be tempting with everything that you’ve been through.” Alya gestured to his chair and legs. 

“Thanks Als.” He still had one question he needed to ask. Adrien swallowed hard. “Why would a devil want to stay on the mortal plane?”

She crossed her arms over her full chest, “I’m not sure. I think it would depend on the devil. Each has their own desires and interests. But from what I’ve been taught about devils staying on the mortal plane in the past,” Alya stood and returned to the bookshelf. She pulled out another volume bound in light stained leather. She thumbed through the stained and brittle pages. Adrien took it from her hands, staring at the words and pages before him. “It's never anything good. Each time before this it has only ended in bloodshed and death. There was the war of the witches, where a civil war broke out between covens. The black death that wiped out a third of Europe’s population. The great flood which almost killed all of humanity a couple hundred thousand years ago. Many witches assume the eradication of the dinosaurs was a devil’s fault. If a devil found a way to stay on the mortal plane, it can only mean trouble and death will follow.”

If Adrien hadn’t been keeping the secret of his legs from her, he would’ve bolted straight out of the chair and out of the apartment. His heart hammered against his sternum. Throat and tongue dried out as the words hit him. He scanned through the history book on his lap. Careful to avoid ripping the fragile and flaking pages. 

“You’re serious.” 

“I might have made a contract with a devil, sunshine, but I would never want one to walk the earth. I’ve got common sense. That’s why they’re supposed to stay in the Pits. Their power is too strong for the mortal plane and what they tend to want to do when they are here is never anything good.” 

“I should get going. I don’t want my father to worry about me because it's getting late.” He turned to wheel himself out of the living room. 

Alya bounded over, stepping into his path. She bent over and rested her hands on his shoulders, “If you think there is a devil walking the mortal plane, Adrien, you have to tell me.” 

He wanted to. More than anything he wanted to. But he needed to talk to Marinette first and hear what she had to say for herself. She was his devil. Adrien couldn’t sell her out without talking to her first. 

“If I do, I’ll be sure to tell you.” He waited for her to step to the side before wheeling to the front door. He typed a message to his driver, who said he would be there in ten minutes. 

Alya opened it for him and padded behind him to the elevator. Her bare feet light on the carpet. She hip checked the button. The light behind it didn’t flash on, but the sound of the motor made it known that it was in route. 

“If you have any other questions, don’t be afraid to ask. It can all be a lot.” Alya leaned against the wall that the elevator summoning buttons sat in. “If you weren't the witchfinder general’s son, I would invite you to come to one of the coven celebrations and parties sometimes, but--”

“They wouldn’t feel very comfortable. I know, Als. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. My father has made it his life’s mission to hunt down witches and I can’t ever agree with that. Do you know any other witches in our school?” 

“Well, unless they’re from my coven or one that my coven knows, or they’ve let me know, I don’t. I suspect that there might be a couple, but I don’t know any others myself. Witches can’t just sense other witches.” 

The door of the elevator shuttered open. Adrien pulled himself inside and hit the button for the ground floor. 

“Stay safe. Have a good night.” He said as the door shut and separated them. 

The rickety elevator carried him downstairs. Adrien wheeled himself out to the front of the building, through the two sets of doors and out into the early evening. The van pulled up a couple minutes later and he was wheeled into it. The Gorilla and Adrien drove back to the mansion in silence. 

‘He’s a witch.’ Marinette’s earlier comment played in his head. 

Adrien shook his head. A part of him ached to ask and confirm Marinette’s witch radar. But he knew that if Gorilla worked for his father, then he had to know about his father’s second occupation. If Adrien asked, the Gorilla might, rightfully so, assume that it would mean his father had figured it out and would go after him and his coven next. The only question that plagued him was why a witch would work as the personal driver and bodyguard to the son of the witchfinder general.

He kept his mouth shut as they approached the mansion. Adrien pulled himself up to his room, shutting the door behind him softly. He stood from the wheelchair. His legs groaned from underuse with a steady ache and tightness. Adrien pressed fists into the muscles along the tops of his thighs and calves, rolling his knuckles into the flesh. 

Adrien took a seat at his desk, pulling out his homework. He tried to drown out the worries that ran rampant in his mind with formula, equations, english worksheets, and history essays. Time passed slowly, but eventually slogged on.

The night was quiet. With a lonely dinner that he decided to take to his room instead of eating in the empty dining room. 

Marinette didn’t come home until late in the evening. Close to ten o’clock. When she did, she went right to her room. Adrien knocked on her bedroom door. He got no response from the other side. His hand gripped the door handle and he threatened to push it open. Adrien needed to talk to her. Instead, he let his hand drop to his side, stuffing it into his pocket. He strode back towards his room and shut the door behind him. 

He couldn't talk to her. Yet. Adrien wasn’t ready for her answer. Her real answer. Not the one she had given him days ago to brush off the question. He collapsed into his bed and pulled the sheets up to his throat. 

Tomorrow. He would talk about the possible destruction of everything with her tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7

Adrien stood still as a statue. Each muscle in his body taut and refused to move. He looked around him, mouth falling open to the opulence around him. Gilded, golden walls rose up from marble floors. They were painted with frescoes of demons and angels and humans, stories written into the walls themselves. Exoctic plants, flowers, and trees sprawled all over the floor and overflowed from their gold and glass pots and up the walls. 

The ceiling was made entirely of colored glass, depicting the image of a woman with deep red hair and horns that curve out front her temples and swirled in a tight spiral up towards the sky, large iridescent, veined wings spread wide, in the throws of passion above a beautiful man with electric green eyes, black cat ears and a black tail that curled around the woman’s calf, that stared up at the woman with reverence. 

Marble steps descended in front of him to a lagoon. A lagoon that spread out longer than his eyesight and dipped below an edge he assumed was a waterfall. Raised pools sat along the sides of the lagoon. 

A woman stood in the red watered lagoon. Her back to Adrien with her long dark hair splayed out around her atop the viscous, red liquid. The liquid barely came up past her rounded behind, showing off the dimples of her lower back and the smooth curve of her spine. She turned slightly to the side, pulling an object out of the lagoon. 

The red liquid stuck to her pale skin, coating it like a second skin. Adrien swallowed hard through the dryness of his mouth. 

“Do you like it?” Marinette asked. “Being here with me? In my home?” She wasn’t talking to Adrien. Her face turned down to the object in her hand. 

Adrien’s legs gave out beneath him as she turned slightly, showing him the object. In her grip sat a skull, absent of the cartilage of the nose or the soft tissue of the eyes. But it wasn’t the fact that she held a skull that shook him to his core, it was the ladybug mark engraved into the skull above the eyes where the brows would meet. 

Her laughter filled the quiet of the room like a soft wind through chimes. She turned to face Adrien. The skull dropped, forgotten out of her grip and plopped into the lagoon, sinking to the bottom. Gone were her bluebell eyes, replaced with blood red ones. 

“Come. Join me.” 

The world tilted beneath him, suddenly throwing him into the lagoon. He splashed into it, sinking beneath the surface. Adrien choked as salty, metallic blood entered his mouth and filled his stomach. He spit it out when he found the strength to resurface and propel himself in the direction of Marinette. The liquid pulled at his muscles and bones, trying to drag him down deeper and drown him as he swam towards her. Blood dripped into his eyes, threatening to blind him.

Adrien stopped next to her, kneeling in the lagoon. He could feel the bones that made up the floor of the lagoon pressed into his bare knees and cut into the exposed skin. Marinette threaded her fingers through his blond hair, grabbing his head at the nape like she’d been holding the skull. 

Her other hand cupped his cheek, rubbing the blood from his eyes as he looked up at her. She looked like an irresistible goddess in his eyes as she stood over him. Adrien lost himself in her red eyes. 

His skin warmed and flushed underneath the blood staining it. Electricity lit up every nerve in his body. Adrien relished in her touch. Soft and comforting and warm.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, looking into each other’s eyes, neither willing to break the contact nor move. Marinette’s hands slid from his head. Her fingertips trailed lightly down his nape and throat before landing on his shoulders. His attention focused on everywhere they touched. His nerves alight everywhere her hands moved across his skin. 

Marinette shoved him down, beneath the surface in one swift motion. All he could see before blood filled his mouth and lungs was her soft smile and hungry gaze. 

Adrien jolted upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. His hands fisted into the sheets. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to calm his rapid heart rate and the burn in his lungs. Fire burned its way through his veins. Adrien shook his head, carding his fingers into his shaggy blond hair. 

The dream shook him to his core. It felt like reality and clung to him as if he could still feel the blood on his skin. Adrien shoved himself off the bed and practically sprinted to his bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He turned the shower on. The water burned his skin when he stepped beneath the head. He winced, inhaling sharply through his nose. Adrien scrubbed at his skin and hair, pulling at the remnants of his dream that clung to his skin. It replayed against the back of his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. 

He felt the blood clinging to him and her warm hands on his bare skin. The way she seemed ready to devour him. It all felt too vivid, more like forgotten memory that had resurfaced to torment him than a dream. 

Adrien turned off the shower, but remained standing in the tiles. Water dripped down from his chin length hair, down his neck, the curves and divots of muscle in his arms and in his chest, before dripping off the tips of his fingers. He pressed his fingers to his brow, massaging them at the mark between them. 

“What did you do, Marinette, to make that book say never to summon you? What are you really doing here?” He croaked. His voice rough with sleep and unshed tears. Adrien’s knees gave out beneath him and he went slamming into the tiles. He inhaled sharply at the smack of bone on slick tile, knowing it would bruise. “Please, don’t let history repeat itself. Please have Alya be wrong about something for once in her life.” 

The rest of the week passed without Adrien finding the strength to confront her. By the time Friday came around, he thought he would never be able to ask her. Marinette stayed her buoyant, bubbly persona. She hung around Alya mainly. Also spent time with Juleka and Rose. Nathaniel, the red headed boy, tried to catch her attention and time, but mainly he overheard them talk about art and the art class they took together. 

“Nino is taking me out tonight, Mari. He said he’d planned this whole night for us because we have our anniversary on Monday and he wanted to do something special.” 

“How long have you two been together?” 

“Three years. I know. I know. It’s hard to believe that high schoolers can last that long. But we really care about each other and love each other. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone but him.”

“So, what are you two going to do?” 

Nino wrapped his arms round Alya’s waist, gathering her against him, and burying his face in her bountiful curls. “Now, that would spoil the fun this evening. I gotta keep some secrets to myself.” 

“He hasn’t told me. He’s trying to be romantic and mysterious. But it's a little annoying because I have no idea what to wear if he won’t tell me what we’re doing.” 

“Everything looks amazing on you, so it won’t matter.”

“But it does matter.” Marinette interjected. “Clothes say a lot about a person. And if you’re going to be out all night then she’s going to need a jacket. And if you’re going to a fancy restaurant or a nice place then she’s going to have to dress accordingly.” 

“Exactly, Nino. Listen to Marinette.” 

“Alright. How about a compromise? I’ll whisper to Marinette about my plans, and she can get you ready for tonight. Then I keep some mystery about myself and tonight, and you get to dress accordingly.” 

“I can agree to that.” Alya pouted for a moment. “Mari?”  
“Sounds good to me.” Adrien watched Nino lean in close to her ear, holding a hand up to hide his mouth from his prying girlfriend. Marinette’s face grew brighter and her smile wider. “This is going to be perfect.” 

“I know.” Nino stepped back with a silly grin and wink. 

“Ugh, now I feel like I have to know.” Alya threw her hands in the air. “I hate not knowing things.” 

“Too bad.” Nino and Marinette said together in a sing-song. Alya groaned. 

“Ready to go to Alya’s place, Adrien?” She asked him. 

“Wait, I’m coming along? I thought that this would be a girls only thing.” 

“What better person to help me design a wonderful outfit for Alya’s date night than the son of a world renowned fashion designer? And we can’t leave you all on your lonesome. It would be so sad for you to be all alone on a Friday night.” 

“I don’t know--”

“You’re coming, sunshine. The more the merrier.” Alya overruled any other options. She had that look that warned him not to even try fighting it, it wouldn’t be worth the verbal beatdown and struggle. 

Adrien texted the Gorilla that he and Marinette would be out late tonight and that he’d let him know when to pick them up. They left Nino and arrived at Alya’s apartment building.

As they piled into the elevator, Marinette clung to the walls. Her nails tried to find purchase along the chipped paint. Knuckles turned white. 

“This thing is a death trap.” She said through clenched teeth as it jerked upwards. “Next time I’m taking the stairs. I don’t care how far up it is.” 

Adrien bit his knuckle around the laughter that threatened to spill out. A High King of hell scared of an old elevator. It made her seem almost human. 

“Don’t worry, M. It got fixed a couple months ago.” 

“You mean it already broke down? I always knew I would die in one of these things. I swear if I do I’m going to haunt you.” 

Could a devil haunt a human? Would she actually die if the elevator broke and crashed to the bottom floor flattening them? Marinette seemed to act like it was possible. But it could all be an act to sell her mortality and human status.

“We’d be dead too. You can’t haunt a ghost.” Alya said. 

“I’d find a way.”

The doors opened with a creak, shuddering as it came to a full stop. Marinette bolted out of the metal box the moment she could fit through doors. She almost collided with the wall on the other side of the hall from the elevator. Her hands came up to stop her, pressing against the cool cement. She took in a deep breath.

“You good, Mari?” Alya placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Didn’t you hear me call it a death trap?” She smiled halfheartedly. “Never make me ride in that thing again.” 

“I’m surprised. You’ve ridden in the elevator at school with Adrien plenty of times.”

“This one felt like it was about to give out if I so much as moved. I wouldn’t say I’m usually scared of elevators. I don’t like the feeling that I could plummet multiple stories at any given moment.” 

“You never have to get in again.” Alya wrapped her arm around her shoulders, steering her in the direction of her family’s apartment. “I promise.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

Adrien followed the girls into the apartment. It was empty of her boisterous and large family. Quiet and calm. More than he usually saw it unless they planned for some alone time, like they had earlier in the week. The girls disappeared into Alya’s room, leaving Adrien alone in the living room. He wheeled himself over to one of her bookcases. The one he’d seen the books on magic in. His fingers grazed over their spines until he pulled out a random one. 

It was bound in orange stained leather with the imprint of a fox with its tail tucked over a pile of swords. He opened the heavy cover to the first page. In it was a list of signatures. Above the mess of different names was written, Grimoire of the Orange Fox. He thumbed past the next five pages of signatures, finding Alya’s near the bottom of the list with only two more following her name. 

The next pages were filled to the brim with spells and incantations with lessons and hand gestures to cast magic. Adrien’s eyes ate up page after page, spell after spell. Compelled by something against his will to continue reading. 

“That’s a pretty grimoire. But if you suddenly got an interest in practicing magic, I would’ve let you see the one for my witches.” Adrien whipped his head to the side. His nose brushed against Marinette’s dark hair as she leaned over his shoulder. He moved to shush her, but she stopped him. “Alya’s in the shower. Should be for the next half hour. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Each witch gets one?” 

“Not usually. Each book is infused with magic and is an arcane relic so it takes a lot of effort to make one. If it's a coven, then the head witch tends to be gifted the grimoire to share the magic with everyone. It's not like you need them to cast and control magic. It makes it a little easier to focus on certain spells. You can also copy any spell down to help you memorize, but then it won’t give you the magic boost a grimoire can. I’m assuming it's from this book you found the spell to summon me. It would’ve been easier on you if you had the grimoire. Maybe you wouldn't have passed out. But you’re my only witch, so you’d get one all to yourself.” 

“I don’t want to do magic. I told you that.” 

“Then why are you looking at a book of magic?” She gave him a pointed look. 

“I was just looking through it. I wanted to find out more about witches. Also, it felt like I had to keep reading.” 

“Magic calls to magic. Just because you don’t want to use magic doesn’t mean magic doesn’t want you to wield it.”

She seemed willing to discuss things with real answers, Adrien realized. Maybe he should ask the questions that plagued him. He opened his mouth to begin the onslaught of questions when the door to Alya’s bathroom opened. Alya stepped out of the cloud of steam, a white towel wrapped about her chest, hiding her form from the room. The head of her witchmark peaked out from the edge of the towel. A burning orange against her caramel skin. 

“Once I get underwear on, you are going to come and help me get ready.” Alya huffed and disappeared into her bedroom. 

“You heard her.”

“I think she was talking to you and not me.” Adrien slid the grimoire back into its spot on the shelf. “Why’d you really drag me along? I know it wasn’t really to help Alya.”

Marinette held a finger to her smirking lips, “That’s something I know and you’ll never find out.” She clasped her hands together, back of one facing the floor and the back of the other facing the ceiling. Her hands separated until they were about a foot apart. A dark red leather bound tome appeared in the space. “Don’t lose it. It's better to look at your own better to look at your own then to go snooping through another witch’s grimoire.” 

Adrien rubbed his thumbs over the risen leather that formed a ladybug. “I’m not going to use it.” It was heavy and thick. The leather binding was tight and underused as if it had rarely opened.

“It's still yours. I should’ve given it to you sooner.” 

Alya called her name and Marinette went to help the witch. Adrien tucked the grimoire into the messenger bag at the back of his chair. A part of him wondered if his own signature would be in the book or if he would have to write it in himself. Another part of him wondered if the grimoire would give him more information on Marinette and what she was after. But the voice in the back of his head convinced him that it was the safest option to never open the blood red spell book. 

Adrien scanned the other book shelves, finding cheesy romance novels mixed along with horror and classic mysteries. Other books on magic littered the shelves, but he ignored them. He’d messed with enough magic for the rest of his life and had enough questions without needing to create more.

He pulled out ‘And Then There Was None’ by Agatha Christie from the shelf. Adrien stood from the wheelchair and settled back into the couch. He threw his legs up next to him on the cushions, stretching out. If he was going to be here for a while, he needed something to entertain him while the girls did their thing. 

He lost himself into the story, trying to guess who the murderer could be as people dropped dead left and right in the story. He liked Vera. Adrien hoped that she didn’t turn out to be the killer.

A couple hours passed before Alya and Marinette left the bedroom. “C’mon, Als. You know you look amazing, but we have to see what the son of a fashion designer says.” 

Marinette yanked Alya into the living room by her wrist until both girls stood next to each other in front of Adrien. Marinette looked pretty in everything she wore, even the wide-legged black sweatpants with white racing stripes along the legs and white crop top that barely came to her navel, showing off the muscular planes of her stomach. But Alya. She would’ve taken anyone's breath away with one look at her. 

Alya wore am off-white colored skirt that came down to her ankles with slits up to her mid thigh on each side. A burnt orange cropped halter stop hid the witchmark on her chest, allowing the expanse and curve of her bare back and the sliver of brown skin between the waistband of the skirt. Her makeup was done with oranges and blacks with white eyeliner peaks like an egyptian queen. Dark gold highlighter accentuated the curve of her cheekbones and the hollow of her throat. If Adrien had been standing, she would have come up to his nose in her black heeled combat boots. When she turned, he could see the black thigh highs that clung to her long legs. 

“So?” Alya crossed her arms over her chest. 

“You look amazing.” Adrien looked her up and down. He never had seen her in anything that feminine or makeup. For a moment it didn’t seem to fit her until her smile grew, and she turned to look at herself in the mirror of the bathroom. Pride and joy bloomed on her face. “I think you’ll kill Nino when he sees you.” 

“Good. I better see him collapsed on the pavement from all this. Took long enough. It’s all thanks to Marinette. I couldn’t have done it without her.” Her curls tied up into a ponytail at the top of her head that swung when she walked. 

“You’ll need this.” Marinette held out a black leather jacket to her. A large grin on her face. “It might get cold.” 

When Alya’s back turned, Adrien quickly sat back into the wheelchair, hoping she didn’t catch him standing. 

The doorbell to the apartment rang. Alya walked over to it and threw it open. Nino stood in the hall with a bouquet of red roses. He almost lost his grip on them as he stared at his girlfriend with his mouth threatening to hit the floor. 

“Wow.” Nino handed her the flowers. “How’d I get blessed with the most beautiful woman on the planet? I feel like I must’ve died and gone to heaven.” He leaned in to give her a chaste kiss on the mouth. 

Alya carded her hand through his hair and pulled him into a deeper kiss. Adrien looked away as a flush burned his cheeks. 

“I think it's time Adrien and I get out of your way.” Marinette grabbed him by the wheelchair and directed him to the door. “We don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thanks so much for everything, M.” Alya crushed her into a hug. Marinette angled her face away to protect herself from the makeup and lipstick. “I really appreciate it. It's been so nice to have a female friend for once. We’ll see you out.”

“Oh no need. We want you to have the rest off the evening all to yourselves.” 

Nino and Alya moved out of the doorway enough for Marinette and Adrien to scoot past. Nino’s hands and eyes never left his girlfriend. The door shut between them and they headed in the direction of the elevator and stairwell.

“I’m not getting in there.” Marinette said when Adrien pushed the button. 

“So, you weren’t faking it.”

“Nope. I meant it. That is a death waiting to happen. I’ll see you down stairs.” She opened the steel door to the stair with her hip and disappeared past it. He heard her quick steps taking the stairwell until the door clicked shut. 

Adrien wheeled himself into the elevator. Marinette leaned against the doorway of the elevator when the doors opened. She stared him down. A smirk played on her mouth as he wheeled himself out. He took his phone out to call his driver to come and pick them up. She snatched it from his grip and pocketed into one of the many pockets of her exercise pants. 

“We’re not going home.”

“Then where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.”


	8. Chapter 8

Adrien and Marinette had stopped home, to change clothes and she forced him to leave his wheelchair behind. 

“We’re going to be sneaking out, Adrien. You can’t do what I want if you have to carry that thing around with you. Also, make sure you look good. It will look weird if you don’t next to me.” 

The duo stood in a line outside of a nightclub as the sun began to set beneath the horizon. Adrien kept his head to the ground, hoping no one would recognize him. It was unlikely. As his father rarely had him modeling anymore, since the accident, except in campaigns for inclusivity and to showcase his acceptance of the disabled into the fashion community. But those were rare and far between. He wore a pair of ripped acid washed jeans that fit perfectly on his legs, a tight white t-shirt with a dipping v-neck, and a leather jacket. His blond hair slicked back along the sides. 

Adrien didn’t understand why he let her drag him out to the nightclub when all he wanted to do was grill her on devils and all the other questions running around his head. Only that he hadn’t found it in him to say no. A part of him wondered if she used her power over him to sway him. Adrien shook his head of that worry, knowing it wasn’t worth the effort for her. 

He stared at the spot between her shoulders. Marinette wore a vibrant, fire hydrant red bodycon dress with slender straps that crossed over her back and a plunging neckline. Black boots laced up and over her slim, muscular thighs, along with her high socks and black garter. Her long hair tied up in two buns on top of her head with red ribbons wrapped around them. Silver body glitter shone against the apples of her cheeks, down her arms, exposed throat, and down between her petite breasts. 

When they came to the top of the line, instead of pulling out their IDs, Marinette leaned in close to the bouncer and whispered something in his ear. Her eyes glowed with a ring of red around the pupil before it disappeared.

“Is James Dean with you, my lady?” The bounder looked Adrien over. 

She flashed him a smile of all white teeth, “He is. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Anything for you, my lady.” The bouncer pressed the inked stamp into her inner wrist and then his own. A four leaf clover in black ink. 

The bouncer bowed his head slightly, letting them pass. Adrien felt the bouncer’s eyes bore into the back of his head. A shiver went down his spine as he entered the hot building. The club, Lucky Charm, was created out of the ruins of an old building. Some of the original stonework and columns were still in place, surrounding the cement dance floor. A bar cut from black stone stood on a raised platform along with white leather booths spread around. People danced in cages hanging from the ceiling with bars wide enough for limbs and heads to easily slip through and hand the barely clothing clad dancers euros. 

“Let’s get you a drink.” Marinette sauntered over to the bar, stepping up and grabbing the attention of the bartender with ease. It made sense. It was almost impossible for anyone to take their eyes off of her. 

“I don’t drink.” Adrien slid up next to her. 

“C’mon, pretty boy, have some fun for once and stop being so neurotic. I can practically feel the way your brain is running around in circles. I can feel the grinding of the gears.” She took back one shot of a clear liquid before another and a third after that. Marinette made a disgusted face. It contorted her pretty features. 

“A devil thing?”

“No. A common sense thing. You’ve got something on your mind. And maybe you shouldn’t.” She handed him a shot glass. “You don’t have to. But I don’t think it can hurt.” 

Maybe it would help him ask the questions that he’d avoided asking for the last three days. Adrien downed the shot. It burned as it hit the back of his throat and settled heavily in his stomach. He held back the cough. Marinette replaced it with another and locked their elbows together. They tipped their drinks back at the same time. Her eyes never left his gaze.

“You’ve doubled what I’ve had. How is that possible with a body so small?” 

She shot him a smirk and tugged on his hand, “Dance with me.” 

Marinette pulled him from the bar and past the half standing columns. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck and carded through his hair. She slowly swayed her hips and shoulders, focusing on keeping to the beat of the music. When Adrien started to move with her, she began to move with more wild abandon. Her hands unlatched themselves from around his neck and traveled up her body as it writhed and moved like it was a part of the music itself. Half lidded eyes that lost themselves to the music and the movement. 

It became her to move like that as if it was something her body was made for. Marinette stood on her toes and spun. Hands thrusted into the air above her head as her back collided with Adrien’s front. 

She didn’t stop dancing as she fell against him. Her head lolled against his clavicle as she moved against him. Adrien felt the warmth of her body and the softness of her round behind pressed against his pelvis. 

Adrien stopped moving, becoming like a statue. His hands ghosted her sides, unsure what to do with themselves. Marinette grabbed him by the wrists and wrapped his arms around herself, continuing to urge him to move with her body. 

“You’re supposed to be dancing with me. So dance, Adrien Agreste.” She breathed. Her long, dark lashes batted against her glitter and sweat dusted cheeks. Marinette turned around in his and stepped back. Her fingertips brushed against his as she extended her arms. A new song started, one full of heavy bass and strong guitar to counter the electronic, autotuned voice of the singer. “Please, dance with me.” 

Adrien pulled her back to him at the request. Something about her actually asking him made him want to oblige her. His hands splayed against her hip and lower back. He moved with her, leading her lead through most of the move. His gaze lost on the way that glitter on her body reflected the neon lasers and pale lights above the dance floor. She was warm against his hands and body when she pushed her front flush against him. Her hands traveled up his biceps and shoulders to wrap around his neck. Her fingers played with the longer strands of blond hair at his nape. 

They moved together, drowning in the movements and gazes of the other. Completely oblivious to the other dancers or the occasional stares. Each move in sync without trying to be. Each movement done by one paired perfectly by the other. 

The song ended and it broke the trance. Adrien heaved a deep breath, stepping away from Marinette. She continued to dance without him, as the new song played. He watched her. Each curve of her body and bend to the beat of the music. The flutter of muscles beneath her flushed skin as she moved by herself with her own steps. 

Adrien shook his head and returned to the bar. His ears grew hot as a flush burned down his face and neck. He eventually got the attention of the bartender and ordered himself another shot of a random alcohol. Adrien didn’t care which it was as long as it helped him forget the feel of her beneath his hand or the thoughts that ran through his head. He had downed the shot when he heard a whoop and a holler. Adrien turned to the source of the commotion to find a group of people surrounding one of the cages of dancers. 

He almost turned away from it without thought to order another shot when he recognized the dancer between the bars. Adrien shoved his way through the crowd gathered around the cage. His mouth dropped to see Marinette standing behind the metal bars. 

She dipped low at the waist and snapped her hip. Her hands trailed over her boots and up her creamy, covered thighs to hook onto the bottom of her dress. Marinette pulled the dress over her head and spun it around like a lasso. She chucked it at his head, hitting him dead in the face. Adrien balled the soft, stretchy fabric into his fists. Marinette continued to dance in the cage in her black boots, thigh highs, a black garter with a peek-a-boo heart low on her hips, a black lace thong, and a red strapless bra. Her body and hips moved, enticing like an asp dancing for a snake charmer. 

At that moment, Adrien knew he wasn’t wrong with his earlier thought. The one he wanted to forget. That she was the most beautiful being that he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. 

He turned away from her, trying to ignore the feeling of his skin being too tight over his muscles and bones and the heat that bubbled beneath it. Adrien returned to the bar and ordered another drink. Hoping that he could push the warmth that had pooled in his belly away and forget it ever happened. He downed another shot. A haze grew in his head and time seemed to both slow and speed up at the same time. 

An hour passed before Marinette climbed down from the cage. Adrien stopped drinking, nursing a glass of water. Her body slick with sweat and her chest heaved as she sided up next to him. She held out her hand for him. 

“Want your dress back?” 

“Not really. I was more interested in what you were drinking.” 

“It’s just water. I don’t think it was what you were looking for. And you really should put your dress back on. Its public indecency to go dressed around like that.” 

“Exactly what I’m looking for.” She chugged back the glass of water, ordering another and a shot to go along with it. “Always have to be such a killjoy.” She threw both glasses back with a moan. 

Marinette pulled the dress back over her head and smoothed out the red fabric beneath her fingers. She leaned down and readjusted a strap on her garter that had unsnapped and let go of her stocking. 

“Can we go home?”

“Ready for bed already?”

“Yes.” Adrien leaned down on his crossed arms along the bar. His head pressed into his forearms. “I’m exhausted.” 

Marinette leaned her head against her shoulder, “Alright. We can go. But we gotta make a pitstop.” 

“Where’s that?”

“I wanna go to the park.” She hopped off the barstool and headed towards the entrance of the club. 

Adrien followed on her heels, or as close as he could trying to navigate the thrums of the crowd which was more difficult with his taller, broader frame. They exited the club and into the night. Cool wind hit them, cooling flushed and sweat coated skin. Marinette shivered for a moment next to Adrien. 

“Want my jacket? I told you to bring one.”

“No. I’m ok. I need a second to get used to it.” She threw her shoulders back and took off in the direction of the park. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” 

Her body swayed as she walked. Her legs crossed over each step as if she was walking on a balance beam. The street lights blurred together in a mixture of reds, yellows, and greens. Few cars passed by. One of the passing cars rolled down the window and yelled obscenities at Marinette. She held up her middle finger. Her eyes began to glow with a ring red. Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. 

“No magic, drunk, please. Even on assholes like that.” His nose brushed into her hair piled on top of her head. She smelled of vanilla and sugar and sweat. “I don’t want us to be the stupid.” 

Marinette swatted his hands around her middle and stepped out of his grasp, “Fine. Fine. But if I was sober I wouldn’t be agreeing and you’d have no argument.” 

“Don’t care. Doesn’t matter right now.” 

They came upon the park. The large iron walls rose up from the ground to be about twenty feet in the air. A large padlock on the gates crushed any idea of walking across the grass. 

“It’s locked.”

“I can see that. So, what?”

“We can’t go to the park if we can’t get into it.” 

“Who said it being locked meant that we can’t get in?” Marinette gripped the rot iron and pulled herself up. Her heeled boots found purchase to help get herself higher until she swung her leg over the top. The second on followed and she dropped down on the other side into a crouch. She stood, brushing nonexistent dirt off her dress. 

“Show off.” 

“Aren’t you going to join me?” She held out her hand for him. 

Adrien rubbed his face, “I don’t think I can.” 

“You won’t know until you try. I bet you can do it. I wouldn’t have made you my witch if you couldn’t do something as basic as hop a fence.” 

He grabbed onto the fence and began to pull himself up. His foot found a hold and pushed himself higher. Adrien grabbed another piece of the iron, hauling himself higher. His foot slipped out from under him. He ended up flat on his back on the wrong side of the fence.

“Before you I couldn’t even walk, so I don’t think I can hop a fence.” 

“I know you can do it, Adrien. Try again. Please?” She looked at him with open, endless eyes.

Adrien stood up and dusted himself off. He tried at the fence again. His hands pulled and his legs pushed until he reached the top. He straddled the crown of the iron fence, careful to avoid the spikes. Adrien dropped down. His ankle smarted, giving out beneath him as he rolled. Marinette pounced onto his chest. Her face beamed with pride. 

“I knew you could do it.” 

“I think I hurt my ankle.”

“Aw, don’t be a big baby. You’re fine.” She got off him and held out her hand. Marinette pulled him to his feet. Adrien tested out his ankle, rolling it a couple of times before putting wait on it. “See? Perfectly fine.” 

They began to walk around the lush green of the park. The three above them had just begun to turn their leaves from green to autumn colors of red, yellow, orange, and brown. Most still succulent green. Marinette twirled and skipped through the pastures before she’d wait for Adrien’s meandering pace. She dug into the top of her boot and pulled something out. 

A pre-rolled joint hung from her ruby painted lips as she brought a red lighter up. She snapped the lighter closed. Marinette breathed in deeply, tucking the joint between two fingers. The cherry alight in her blown out blue eyes. Adrien reached to grab it from her, but she turned out of his reach.

“Get your own drugs, mister. I’m not sharing.” 

“I”m not trying to smoke some. You can’t be smoking that here. What if someone smells it and calls the police?”  
“Then they’d be killjoys like you and I can’t think that there are too many as bad as you are.” 

She breathed in a breath of smoke and took a inhale of fresh air, letting them coalesce in her lung before breathing out. She looked a little like a dragon as some also filtered out of her button nose. Adrien sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He waited for her to finish the joint. She put it out on the bottom of her boot when it hit the filter.

“You’re lucky no one is around.” 

“That must be it. Or maybe no one else really cares. C’mon Adrien, stop worrying so much. We’re supposed to be having fun.” She pressed his nose, turning his face. “I want you to have fun too.” 

A small merry-go-round sat off to the corner that caught Marinette’s attention. She climbed past the rails to straddle one of the white horses that was designed to look mid gallop. She wrapped her legs around the neck of the mechanical horse and leaned back, arching her spine. 

“What are you doing?” Adrien asked when he caught up to her on the inactive ride.

“Pretending I’m riding a horse. Isn’t that what this contraction is for? It’s a rather small horse to be much practice for actual riding.” 

“It's not supposed to be. It's for children.” 

“Get on.” She pointed to the horse next to her. A black one that had its head tossed back with green accents on the saddle. “Hold on tight.” 

He listened to her demands and climbed up onto the horse next to her. Her eyes glowed a fluorescent red before the ride took off. They lurched forward. Metal scrapped against metal as the poles that attached the horses to the ride disconnected and shot away from the carousel. The metal horses kicked themselves into the air. 

Adrien gasped and grabbed onto the neck of the ride as they rose higher and higher. His legs wrapped tightly around the horse's middle. 

Face buried into the plaster neck of the beast. Eyes clenched shut as they flew above the fence of the park and into the night sky. He opened them once they stopped rising and came to a cruising altitude. Clouds passed overhead. Adrien looked down to see people that looked only a foot tall and cars that looked more like toys. He swallowed hard, gripping his horse even harder. 

“What did you do?” He demanded. 

“I thought this might be a more fun way to get home. And you won’t have to make your ankle worse by walking on it too much or trying to climb out.” 

Marinette tucked her feet beneath her and let go of her horse. She turned to the side, facing Adrien. She pushed herself into standing. Arms stretched out on either side of her as he feet balanced on the curved red saddle of the plaster horse. Her head tilted towards the night sky. The cheshire smile of a slender crescent moon smiles down on her, glowing against her fair skin. The horse bobbed up and down in the hair, legs kicking up behind it. It moved as if still attached to the carousel with the pole through its middle. Except it no longer belonged to its metal and plastic mechanisms being willed into flying through the night by a devil’s magic. 

“Marinette, what are you doing? Sit down. You’re going to fall.” 

“I’m not. I’m lucky. You said so yourself.” 

“You have to be more than lucky if you’re going to not fall.” 

She pulled herself up until she stood on the head on the horse. One foot positioned between the ears. The other rested against the snout of the animal. Her arms dropped to her sides. The dress clung to her body as her hair was whipped around by the movement of the horse. It fell along her shoulders in lazy curls. 

Marinette caught his gaze and directed her horse to pull up closer to his own. When their horses were only a foot apart, she stepped onto the head of his black mare. He felt it bob under her weight. She swung her other foot after her, placing it in a similar position to how she stood on her own horse. Marinette took a seat. Her legs dangled on either side of the horse’s painted on face. A breath he didn’t realize he held escaped past his lips at the sight of her in a slightly more safe position.

“There. I sat down. Happy now?” 

“Not exactly. A little less anxious. Maybe.” 

Marinette leaned back, resting her head on the crook of his shoulder and neck. “I’m perfectly safe. I wouldn’t have done something like that if I wasn’t.”

“I know. But it doesn’t stop the innate fear of seeing you look like you could fall at any minute.” 

“I didn’t know you cared about me that much.” 

“You might’ve grown on me a little.” 

“A little?”

“Only a little.” Adrien sat her up by her shoulders, making her turn to face him. “But I’ve got some questions I need to ask you. And I don’t want you to squirm your way out from under them or play them off. It’s really important to me that I get an honest answer out of you. Please.” 

“Can I answer them tomorrow?” Marinette stood and stepped over the head of the horse, settling himself in his lap. She leaned back against him. Her small frame curled into his lap, trying to pull some of his warmth from him. “I’m tired and cold. I want to go home and sleep. I promise I’ll answer whatever questions you have in the morning.” 

The horses landed behind his house, kneeling to allow easier access to get off. Marinette’s smooth, even breathing cut through the air. 

“Marinette, you have to wake up. We’re home.” Adrien shifted underneath her. 

She curled closer to his chest, refusing to rouse herself from her sleep. He sighed. One arm wrapped underneath her legs and the other around her shoulders. He pulled her arms around his neck. Marinette cuddled closer to him, gripping the collar of his jacket beneath her hands. She felt light in arms. Easy to carry through the backdoor and up to her bedroom. 

He pushed it open with his hip and slipped into the room. Adrien kicked it lightly closed behind him. He dipped her softly on top of her mattress. Her hands grabbed onto him tighter.

“So warm.” She muttered in her sleep. 

“You’ve got to let go, Marinette. I need to get to bed too.” 

A soft whine escaped her lips as he detached himself from her. She curled in on herself. Arms wrapped around her middle and knees pulled up to her chest. Adrien sat on the bed, pulling her knee away from her chest and unlacing her boot, throwing it to the floor. He did the same with the other shoe. His hands removed the leftover ties and pins from her buns, letting it escape around her. Her hair spilled around her on the pillows and blankets. He pulled the comforter up to her chin, tucking her into it. Marinette moaned softly in her sleep as she relaxed into the warmth the blankets brought her. 

“I hope you had fun tonight.” Adrien whispered. His voice was the only sound in the room other than her light breathing. “I also had fun. Not as much as you. But it was nice to let go a little. Thanks Marinette.” 

Adrien stood and left her bedroom. He closed the door behind him with a resounding click.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the shorter chapter. I love the comments and people enjoying it so I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

He cracked open his eyes slowly. His body and mind refusing to let him sleep any longer. He groaned when he took in the time on the clock. Just after five in the morning. A solid four hours of sleep. They had arrived back to the mansion shy of one in the morning from the club. 

Adrien dressed. His stomach turned over itself and knotted. He swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn’t lose the meager contents of his belly. 

Coffee. He needed coffee. And a lot of it. His body and tongue craved the bitter taste as he wheeled himself down to the kitchen. He put a cup into the machine, along with a large dosing of water, placing his mug beneath it, and he hit the start button. Even with the slight nausea taking root in his gut, he craved food. Greasy, cheesy breakfast food. The chef wouldn’t be there for another hour, so Adrien had to fend for himself. He wrote down an order on a piece of notepaper and left it out for the chef to find once he arrived. Hopefully his father wouldn’t stop the request as it was outside of his allotted diet. 

He took the mug of coffee, adding milk until it was a tawny brown and a small spoonful of sugar. Adrien left the kitchen with the mug in his grip. He shoulder checked the door out to the garden in the back of the mansion, taking a long sip of coffee. 

Soft grass hit his bare feet as he wandered out into the courtyard. The sun lazily hugged the horizon line, refusing to rouse itself. Adrien absentmindedly ran his finger tips over hydrangeas and ferns, leaning down to smell the cropping of rose bushes. He meandered through the garden. Half lost in thought. Half staring off into nothingness. Birds chirped and sang their morning melodies above his head. 

He headed towards his mother’s statue on the far end of the courtyard. Adrien took a seat on the bench with his back to the stone carving of Emilie Agreste, stretching out his long legs, crossed at the ankles and took a sip. He leaned back on his elbows, resting the mug next to his hip on the stone bench. 

Most of the sky aglow with oranges and reds and pinks and blues. Clouds passed slowly overhead. Not concerned as to where they were going. 

Adrien turned in his seat. Ready to face his mother’s statue. He held his feet in the air before they could come down on the curled lump in the grass between the bench and the carving. 

Marinette laid curled in on herself on the grass. One arm under her head to act as a pillow while the other tucked against her chest and under her chin. The oversized t-shirt she wore, which he recognized as one of his own, rode up, showing the expanse of her legs and her boy shorts. 

He tucked his feet underneath himself, refusing to step on her or disturb her. Adrien finished off his coffee in a large gulp. He made himself another cup before coming to sit next to Marinette again. Most of his morning was spent going back and forth from his kitchen to the alcove in the garden that held his mother’s statue and a sleeping devil. 

A little before eleven, Marinette stirred, raising her head. She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back in a very feline manner. Her neck rolled, cracking the joints in her shoulders and spine. 

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Adrien said over a fresh cup of coffee. 

“I thought name calling was my thing?” She murmured before laying back down. Her hand jutted in the air, waving in front of his face. “Are you gonna share?”

“Hungover? How’d you even get out into the garden? And how’d you get my shirt?”

“Shut up. Coffee. Now.” He arched a brow, holding the cup just out of reach. “Please.” She bit out. 

“Here.” He pressed the mug into her outstretched hand. Marinette downed the whole mug in one large gulp. 

“It’s too bright and loud.” She shoved her face into her forearms and laid on her stomach with a groan. 

“That was a lot of alcohol for someone that barely comes to five foot two. Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you got crossed last night.” 

“What part of shut up and too loud don’t you understand?” 

“Well--”

“Don’t enlighten me. If you talk anymore right now I will make you be quiet.” 

Adrien felt a tug on his Adam’s apple. A pressure formed over his throat and pressed down on his tongue, making it impossible to move. He shot her a glare before she released her hold on his speech. 

“Fine.” He muttered. 

Marinette sat up, rubbing her hands over her face and running them through her dark hair to untangle some of the knots. Glitter sparkled along her skin and left over traces of makeup clung to her face. Her knees tucked underneath her, hiding her bare legs beneath the tent-like shirt she wore. 

“So, you wanted to talk.” 

“You remembered.” 

“Of course I did. I don’t easily forget things. Especially when my witch asks me. And he was so nice to ask me if I’d be willing to talk too. Maybe not the best time when I’m a tinsey bit drunk and high.” 

“It’s important to me.” 

Marinette cocked her head to the side. Her blue gaze looked him over like a predator stalking its prey. He wondered if she could see the questions that ran through his mind without him having to say them. How easy life would be if she could. 

She stood, “Breakfast first. I’ll answer your questions after. Because right now I’m thinking I could bite your head off because of how hungry I am. Maybe munch on your bones. You aren’t super fatty, so it would make a pretty lean meal.” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. 

“Very funny.” Adrien rolled his eyes, knowing she was kidding. Or at the least hoping that she was. “Let’s head inside. I already have the chef preparing us some good hangover food.” 

He settled into the wheelchair he had brought out with him once more of the house started to wake up. Marinette swung the empty coffee mug around her pointer finger. She tossed it in the air a couple of times, catching it each time. Her hand covered a large yawn as they entered the house. Marinette curled into a large, straight backed chair at the end of the dining table. Her knees pulled up to her chest with her head resting upon the top of them.

Adrien let the chef know that they would be ready for breakfast in silence. He thought over and over each question he had for her and how he was going to ask them of her. 

He glanced over at the devil, “Marinette. Stop.” He bit out. “Now. Please.” 

Red sparks like he’d seen across her body that one time the first day she’d been in his home played across the top of her slender knuckles. She opened her palm to the ceiling. The lightning gathered in the middle of it, forming the faint outline of a ladybug before it dissipated. Marinette continued to stare where her magic had been, refusing to meet his glare. 

Too much magic in the past twenty four hours. Adrien decided he was sick of it. 

Instead of stating his displeasure, he asked, “Why do you like ladybugs so much?” A harmless question he decided. One that could be overheard and not raise suspicions. 

“They are lucky. Creatures of health, luck, and beauty. Let’s say I like having a little bit of extra luck on my side. And my friends do too.” She took a deep breath, staring off into the distance. “They're beautiful. And red has always been my color. It was a match made in hell.” 

Breakfast was brought out and set before them. Honey biscuits piled high with andouille breakfast sausage, poached egg, hollandaise sauce, and a sprig of thyme to top it off. Coffee, orange, and cranberry juice placed on the table between them along with skewers of fresh fruit and berries. 

“Enjoy.” Adrien gestured to the spread before them.

“Maybe you’re smarter than you look because I think this breakfast is genius.” Marinette dug into the sandwich and placed a whole skewer in her mouth, sliding each cubed fruit and plump berry off and onto her awaiting tongue. 

“Don’t eat too fast. I don’t want you to puke it up.” 

Marinette waved him off and kept devouring the food with enthusiasm. It made him wondered what the food hse was used to eating, back in the Pits.

Adrien followed suit, if slower and with less childish glee. The fruit was perfectly ripe and sweet when he dug into it. His mouth watered at the smells of the sandwich and he dug in after her. Breakfast was silent after that. Each focused on stuffing their faces and not the other. Occasionally Adrien would catch Marinette as she reached for one of the pitchers of juice or grab another skewer or when he pointed out the smeared off-yellow sauce on her nose and cheek. She tried to lick the spot off her nose with her tongue, making her look like a child trying to touch their tongue to their nose and failing miserably. He chuckled as he watched her. Adrien reached across the table with a napkin and cleaned her off. 

He froze. His hand, napkin clenched within, stilled next to her face. Marinette stared into his gaze, unflinching. Adrien sat back in his chair, tucking the napkin back over his lap.

“Sorry.” He looked at his food and pushed it around with the used, empty skewer.

“For?” She raised a brow. “About that? Don’t worry about it. I was a mess.” 

They returned to silence as they finished the meal. Marinette sat back in her chair with a content sigh. She stood from the chair. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take a shower.” 

“I thought we were going to talk about breakfast. That’s what you said.”

“I need to clean myself of the glitter and makeup. I won’t be long. Finish up your breakfast and I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done.” 

She left, leaving Adrien to finish his breakfast alone. It wasn’t unusual for him to eat his meals by himself. Before Marinette arrived almost all his meals were taken to his room as it was better to eat alone there than in the large dining room. Luckily, he was pretty much finished when she left. 

Adrien retreated to his room and waited for a certain devil to show herself. 

He leaned against the floor to ceiling window, looking out onto the garden below and the large fence beyond it. His arms crossed in front of his chest. The sun warmed his face and the top of his blond head. He ran his fingers through his long hair and pulled it to a ponytail at his nape. A familiar petite form crossed over the courtyard and disappeared out the back gate.

“Oh, no. She didn’t.” Adrien hissed. He grabbed a black hoodie and tossed it over his head. The hood pulled low over his eyes as he left his room and disappeared from the house after her. 

The gate pulled closed behind him and the lock slid into place. Adrien whipped his head around, looking at both sides of the side street that ran behind the mansion. He took off to the right, towards the city center, in a slight jog. 

“Where did she go?” 

Adrien shook his head. A small pant started to form in his lungs. He ran around town. Along the Seine river, past the high school, past the bookshop he knew she loved and checked the art store that she frequented, along with a couple of her favorite boutiques and thrift shops. His legs and lungs developed a steady ache as the sun continued to crawl a path through the sky. He doubled over, wheezing. He’d run around after her for the past two hours, stopping to walk or take a moment to catch his breath. 

“God. Why did I go after her? There’s no way I’m going to find her in all of Paris. I’m such an idiot.” 

He took a seat on a bench along one of the bridges along the Seine. His blond hair fisted in his hands as he stared down at his feet. Adrien leaned back against the bench, head resting on the real behind him. 

“Adrien fucking Agreste. That better not be you.” 

Adrien swallowed hard as he recognized that voice. 

Alya Cesaire. 

He was as good as dead now. Or maybe dead would be better than whatever it was she had planned for him.


	10. Chapter 10

“Alya, it’s what you think it is.” 

Adrien knew it was exactly what she thought. And he was caught red handed. Alya stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a plaid button up with a ripped, light wash denim skirt that came down to the tops of her knees. Her glasses pushed up into her hair as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. 

“Don’t even try it, Agreste. The only thing I want out of your mouth is the truth. Nothing else.” 

He fisted his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and sat up straighter. “I can walk.” 

“More than walk from the looks of it.” Alya leaned in close to his face. 

For a moment he thought that she could see the ladybug witchmark on his forehead, but unless Marinette had taken off the glamor, and she hadn't noticed it before, then she shouldn’t be able to see it now. She sighed deeply and took a seat next to him on the bench. 

“Alya--”

“Tell me everything. And maybe I won’t turn you into a toad.” 

He opened his mouth before shutting it again. How much should he tell Alya? That he was a witch to the one devil that said he was specifically never supposed to summon. And that same devil was becoming her best friend and had now disappeared. 

“I found an old spell in my father's stuff.” Adrien lied. A part of him wanted to tell Alya everything. He’d known her for years and trusted her as one of his good friends. But he couldn’t find the ability to come clean about everything he’d done. “I tried it out. It said that it could help return what was lost. It gave me back the ability to walk, but I wasn’t sure how to tell people. Especially if my father found out I stole one of his magic items, I’d be as good as dead.” 

There was a spell scroll like that confiscated in his father’s things, and Adrien had tried to use it, but without the power of being a witch it hadn’t worked for him. Maybe it would work for him now if he tried it. But he was stuck on the idea of never using magic again. 

“You better be telling me the truth.” Alya shot him a glaring side eye. “But in case you aren’t.” She pressed two of her fingers to the front of his throat. The pads of her fingers pushed softly into his windpipe. She whispered a quick spell under her breath and removed her hand. He felt the flare of her magic warm against his skin, twisting around his throat and Adam’s apple. Similar to how Marinette had used her own magic on him this morning, but it felt slightly different. 

“I’m--I’m not. I’m actually--actually a witch.” Adrien dropped his head to his hands. He cursed under his breath. 

“Goddamnit, Adrien. I should turn you into something this instant.” She punched his shoulder. “But I want to hear the rest of what you’ve got to say, and I can’t do that if I turn you into something that can’t talk.” 

“Great. Gee thanks.” 

“And you better start talking. Because that’s the only reason you’re still human.” 

“I was so tired of feeling helpless, Alya. I had to do something. Anything at that point. It got to all be too much.” 

“How’d you even do it?”

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to take out all your anger on me.”

Alya crossed her arms back over her chest, “Maybe. Matters what it is you say.” 

“Then I won’t say anything.”

“Fine.” She huffed. “I’ll only blame you.” 

“I had Nino steal some obsidian salts and the spell from your house one of the days when he was over.”

“You did what? He did what?” She screeched, flinging her arms in the air. “I’m going to have that boy by the balls.” Her hands curled into tight fists.

“Hey, you said you’d only blame me. It’s not like he wanted to, but I kept bugging him to. And he wanted me to talk to you about it first, but I refused. He really wanted to go through you, but I wouldn’t have it. So, be mad at me, not Nino.” 

“Oh, I’m plenty mad to be mad enough at the both of you.” 

“So, I cast the spell. And I got my legs back. I’m also officially a witch. It was a terrifying experience to say the least. I thought I was going to die.” 

“Who is your devil?” She eyed him carefully. Alya leaned towards him. The way her brows were knit together and the small crease between them made him know that she had a strong guess, but wasn’t certain. “Tell me, Agreste.” 

“Ma--My devil is Tikki.” 

Alya bolted to her feet, “I could kill you right now, Agreste. How could you be such an idiot? For doing something so reckless you deserve to feel like you were going to die. I thought maybe you’d summon a dangerous devil, like Longg or Sass, but not even I thought you were that stupid. You summoned the most dangerous devil to ever exist and you say you're that devil’s witch? I can’t believe it. If I didn’t put a truth spell on you I wouldn’t.” 

“How long does the truth spell last?”

“An half hour to an hour. Sometimes longer if you put a lot more magic into it.” Alya grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet. It had been a long time since she’d seen Adrien standing, and at that point he was still the same height as her. “Keep telling me the rest. We’re going to my place.” She dragged him off the bridge and in the direction of her apartment building. 

Adrien swallowed hard, “I’ve been a witch for about a week.” 

“Only a week?” He nodded. “Have you been doing any magic since you’ve been a witch.” 

“No. I kind of refuse to do any type of magic. It’s not why I summoned her.” 

“You don’t use any magic? That;s hard to believe, but I have to. So, that’s why you were asking me so much stuff about witches and devils. You became a witch and realized there was a lot you still didn’t understand and you came to me with those questions. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it. Maybe before you sign an eternal contract for your soul you ask your questions beforehand.” 

“I didn’t say I was smart about going about this. I felt like the last resort. I had to do something.” 

“And this was something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Yes.”

“You’re so lucky you aren’t dead, Agreste. And look at me, calling the bad luck cursed kid lucky. Let me guess, Tikki removed the curse, too.”

“She did.” 

“So, fucking lucky.” Alya shook her head as she punched in the code to enter the apartment building. She summoned the elevator before remembering that Adrien could walk and turned to haul them both up the stairs. “You should be dead.” 

“Why do you keep saying that? You summoned a devil, but no one says anything like that about you doing it.” Adrien pulled his hand from her grip, stepping backwards until his back hit the opposite wall of the turn of the stairwell.

“Tikki, to everyone’s knowledge, hasn’t had a witch in over five hundred years, Adrien. And everyone known to try and summon her has been brutally eviscerated and ended up in more pieces than I care to think about.”

“How do you know this?”

“I don’t. It’s just rumors more than anything. A couple years back, in Italy, supposedly someone tried to summon her and they found that woman's body completely shredded. Pieces of her are still being found to this day. Tikki is a ghost story told to young witches in the coven on the dangers of summoning bad devils and to stick to the devils that actually like to have witches.” 

“That can’t be true.” Even as the words left his mouth, he wasn’t sure if his skepticism was warranted. 

“A witchless devil is someone you should never trust. Tikki is the only devil known to have no covens anywhere in the world.” She sighed. “Except you now, I guess. God. I can’t believe you went and did this.” 

“I did. So, you’re going to have to get over it.” 

“Get over it?! Did you just tell me to get over being upset that you tried to kill yourself by summoning that devil, Adrien. Because you better reconsider that if you did.” 

“I did it. It’s done. Nothing we can do about it now.” 

“I don’t care if it's a done deal. Tikki can do whatever she wants with you now. You entered into a soul binding contract with a devil without all the information. She could decide to kill you at a moment's notice and you couldn’t do anything about it. She has complete control over you when she wants it and its so incredibly stupid and dangerous to have even tried to make a deal with her.” 

Alya’s hands began to slow a faint rust color. It pulsated around her opening and closing fists as she paced. She didn’t seem to notice the waves of magic that cascaded off her and crashed into Adrien, showing him into the wall. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him as more waves of magic smashed into him. It stole his breath from his lungs faster than he could breathe it in. The magic hummed along his skin, burning and zapping like static electricity. 

And the most concerning part, Alya didn’t seem to even notice the magic slipping between her fingertips. 

“Calm down--”

“I will not calm down, Agreste. Especially after your dumbass self almost got killed. I don’t know why I’m even putting up with this. With you, right now. Do you know how much it would’ve hurt me, hurt Nino, if she ended up killing you instead? It would have broken my heart. Just the thought of it breaks my heart. We love you, Adrien. I love you. You’re one of my best friends and I can’t stand the thought of someone, something, hurting you. But I also can’t look at you, right now. I need some time and space.” 

“Alya wait.” Adrien reached out. She shoved her hands at him, moving to shove him away. But her hands didn’t collide with him. Instead a stronger hit of magic slammed into his chest, forcing him to his knees and knocked the wind out of him.

“Not now. I just can’t.” 

Alya continued up the stairs, taking them two at a time, trying to get as far from Adrien as she could. 

His skin began to itch and burn. A fever burned through his skin as his temperature rose. His heart beating faster and faster like it tried to race itself in his chest. Adrien doubled over. Arms wrapped around his middle as he tried to collect his breathing. He cried out in pain as his bones twisted, elongating in places and shrinking in others and the joints snapped and buckled beneath him. Black and white fur replaced skin and hair. Fingers curled up with knuckles getting replaced with claws. Whiskers and ears sprouted along the top of his head and along his cheeks as he shrunk down. His cries of agony as his bones and ligaments and muscles fused and changed turned into a high pitched shriek, like that of a wounded animal. Adrien curled onto his side in the fetal position. Tears burned the back of his eyes with nowhere to go. 

Eventually the pain subsided. The room no longer spun. Adrien peeled an eye open to look around him when his breathing and heart rate leveled out. Everything seemed bigger, stretched out and taller. The walls and ceiling towered over him as he found his feet beneath him. 

His four feet. Four paws. 

Adrien tried to say something, anything, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a high pitched mewl. He stepped out of his messy pile of clothes. 

He stretched out his new body, getting a feel for the tail and ears and legs. His sight sharpened along with his hearing and sense of smell. Adrien could smell someone cooking dinner down the hall, salmon and mashed potatoes by the scent. He heard someone’s back slam against a wall, followed by a shout. Adrien turned his attention to the foot of the stairs that would lead him to Alya’s apartment.

‘She actually turned me into something.’ He thought. ‘Alya didn’t mean to, but she must be able to turn me back.’

Adrien hesitantly stepped onto the stair, careful to test out the abilities of the tiny house cat body he inhabited. Once he was certain he wouldn’t tumble down the stairs and could reach the next step, he bounded upwards. Up and up, seemingly further than he thought it should be, until he reached the floor to her apartment. Adrien rammed his shoulder into the bottom of the door. 

It didn’t move. Didn’t seem to even register that he tried to push the steel door open. He tired again to no avail. Adrien scratched at the door, extending his retractable claws so that they dug into the old paint and chipped it. He continued to ram and claw until all the energy was spent from his small body.

‘I can’t believe this.’ But he could. He just didn’t like being stuck in the stairwell with his only hope being a pissed off witch on the other side. 

Adrien mewled and cried from his spot next to the door, hoping someone would come to rescue the pitiful cat. No one came or even seemed to notice the cat. He curled in the corner by the stair, on the far side of the landing from the door. Adrien hoped if anyone came through, he would be able to jump through the opened door. He crossed his front paws over each other. His head rested on top of them. Green, slitted eyes watched the door. Never took his gaze off it.

‘Do people not leave their house on Saturday nights? Someone should come through at some point.’

Adrien laid there for hours, waiting for anyone to open the door. His stomach rumbled. Hunger gnawed at his empty stomach. A small part of him, deep down in subconscious, thought that it was a good idea to lick and clean himself as he waited. He shook his feline head, pushing the thought aside. 

“You said you’d take us to the park. You promised.” The door opened, and the twins came barreling out of it with a captured Alya between them. 

“Ok, ok. We’ll go. It’s not like I have much choice in the matter.” 

Adrien jumped to his feet and ran to the sisters. He snaked his way through their legs, meowing and headbutting, hoping to gain their attention. 

“Alya, look. Kitty!” One of the young girls grabbed his tail. He squealed, hissing at her. Adrien went to bare his fangs before he gained his senses. 

“Leave it alone. We don’t take in strays.” 

“But Kitty must belong to someone in the building.” 

“Right. He’s probably so lonely.” One of the twins, the one that grabbed his tail earlier, gathered him up in her arms, squishing him against her chest. Adrien struggled against his grip. Careful to not scratch or bite. 

The young girl carried him down the stairs. He bounded in her arms. Claws gained traction in her shirt as he felt he would be dropped at every other step. The hairs along his spine went straight as fear gripped him. Adrien really didn’t want to be dropped by a five year old. He tried to catch Alya’s gaze, tried to somehow send a psychic message that he wasn’t an ordinary cat, but she didn’t seem to get it. Or maybe she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t a cat, but Adrien. 

“Leave the cat alone. We don’t know who he belongs to.” 

“He’s a good kitty. I can tell.” The other twin, the one not holding him, said. She roughly rubbed against his forehead. 

‘Good kitty my ass. I’m not a cat.’ A small growl rumbled in his chest. 

“I don’t think that cat likes being held. I can hear him growling.” Alya tried to grab him from her younger sister’s arms. The small girl spun away. Almost made Adrien sick as his world spun unexpectedly. 

“Nuh uh. That’s his love noise” 

They were at the bottom of the stairs and into the lobby on the first floor before Alya convinced her sister to set him on the ground. More like drop him a foot and a half. But Adrien didn’t care with solid ground beneath him and no longer at the whims of a child that could fling or drop him at the slightest provocation. 

Adrien prowled over to Alya, headbutting her calf. She leaned down and scratched along his chin. He pushed his face into her hand. Adrien wasn’t sure how he would get her to recognize him, but there must be a way. It was her magic that turned him into a cat. 

“He is a pretty cute kitty.” Alya stood, pointing to the door with her thumb over her shoulder. “But we have to get going if you want to get to the park. We won’t go if its dark.” 

“We’re coming.” One of them said. 

“Bye-bye little kitty.” Said the other as they ran out the front door. 

He bolted after them, sliding his lithe feline body through the door to the outside as it shut behind him. Alya was a dead end. She couldn’t tell the difference between him and a real house cat. Not a good sign. 

Adrien had only one option left. The one person who his soul was linked to. Hopefully she would be able to tell his soul even in the feline for he took. He also had to hope that she was home. 

He took off in the direction of his house, bounding between heavy foot traffic and taking the side streets to keep from being stepped on. Night crept up on him as he ran around the winding Parisian streets. By the time he arrived at the back gate of the mansion, the sun slipped beneath the horizon line, drenching the night sky in multiple shades of blues and oranges as night flowed in behind it. 

The gate stood in front of him, latched shut and foreboding with its keycode pad and industrial hinges and lock. Now, all he had to do was get into his own backyard. And he knew he couldn’t wait for someone to have to walk through the gate. 

Adrien leaned his body low to the ground, haunches raised. His tail flicked back and forth for a moment before stilling behind him. He dug his claws into the ground for traction as he took a running leap at the fence. 

His small body collided with the metal of the gate. Pain bloomed along his forehead. Adrien took a couple steps further back and leapt at the wall again. He missed. Shoulder whacked into the metal, setting throbbing vibrations through his bones. Adrien continued a couple more times. Until he was covered in bruises, if it was seen beneath the layer of fur. He shook out his fur. One more time he promised himself, he wouldn’t try again after this last attempt, and launched himself at the gate. 

Claws grabbed onto the top of the gate, hooking themselves over them, Adrien dug them in further. He hauled his hind legs over the top of the gate and dropped to the ground, landing gracefully on his feet. 

A happy mewl escaped his lips as they peeled back from his sharp teeth. He jumped up and down in joy. A small purr bloomed in his chest. 

Adrien trotted through the garden, appreciating it from his new position only a foot off the ground. Even as night settled deeply into the air, his heightened vision allowed him to see the garden to its full capacity. The ears on the top of his pivoted, catching a familiar sound. He took off in the direction of Marinette’s voice. The gentle hum as she sang slightly to herself. Adrien slowed as he saw her back, keeping his footfalls almost silent as he approached her. 

Marinette held a notebook, unlined, in her lap. A small electric lantern placed into the ground beside her hip. The faint electric hum collected moths and flies as they swarmed around it, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

She tapped her pencil against the blanket page as she continued to hum a song he didn’t recognize. Adrien ducked under the stone bench, lowering himself to disappear amongst the higher grasses missed by the lawnmower. He watched her for a couple minutes as her humming concluded and she focused her attention on the paper in front of her. She held her hand out to the lantern. A moth fluttered away from the light and onto her outstretched hand. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Marinette murmured. 

The moth moved along her fingers and knuckles. Her other hand moved across the paper. Her eyes darted from the page to the model. It flapped its tan and black wings before it took off into flight, returning to the lamp. He saw that in the opposite page, Marinette had sketched his mother. Most likely based on the statue before them, but with more life and existence in the drawing, like when she was still alive. 

Marinette set the sketchbook next to her. She laid back in the grass. One hand under her head, the other splayed across her stomach. 

“I shouldn’t have run from him today.” Marinette said to herself. Her gaze flickered to the statue of Emilie Agreste. “Adrien probably wasn’t very happy about that. I wasn’t ready for the questions he was going to ask. I could tell that by the look in his eye. What if I couldn’t bring myself to answer some of them, because I bet those were in the list of questions he wanted answers to. Can you believe it? Me? Afraid of talking to a teenage boy because he might have some questions for me that would be tough to answer. How the mighty have fallen.” She chuckled sadly under her breath. 

Marinette turned on her side, facing the bench. Her blue eyes connected with his green ones. 

“And what do we have here?” 

She snaked her hands under the bench, keeping her distance. Her gaze narrowed for a second before they widened. A laugh burst through her curled lips. Marinette almost doubled over as it exploded through her chest. 

“Adrien?” She breathed behind her giggles. 

He stalked out of the shadows of the bench. His head lowered. Adrien sat before her, tail coiling around himself. He kept his gaze on the ground, refusing to meet her probing gaze. If he could have blushed, he probably would have. 

“Let me guess.” Marinette sat up, her arms coming up beneath his shoulders and lifting him in the air so she could get a better look at him. “Alya found out.” 

He meowed in acknowledgment. Marinette lowered him to her lap, scratching under his chin and along his brow. Adrien butted, unconsciously, into her touch, melting into her soothing hands. A purr rumbled through his chest and belly as she continued to pet him. 

“I do have to admit, you have taken to this cat thing pretty well.” Marinette looked at him with a look he couldn’t recognize darkening her eyes. “You overheard me talking to myself just then, right? How long have you been listening in, chaton?” 

Adrien meowed, trying to signal to her that he wouldn’t be able to answer her. He yawned and unintentionally showed off his elongated canines and sharp white teeth. 

“I can’t exactly be mad. Especially when you look so cute.” She continued to scratch at his sweet spots. The purring in his best escalated until it sounded like he had a tiny motor running inside of him. “We’ll take you to Alya’s tomorrow. I’ll try to convince her to change you back.” 

She gathered him softly in her arms, cradling him against her. Adrien tried to object before he settled into her. Marinette’s warmth and solid grip lolled him into a sense of safety. Sleep pulled at his bones. It pulled him under as he listened to her strong heartbeat. 

“Shush, chaton,” She murmured as she set him down on his bed. “Everything is going to be alight, so try to get some sleep.” 

Adrien whined when he felt the bed dip as she stood. In the morning he would blame it on the cat’s instincts that were ablaze in him, but half asleep as craving her reassuring touch and warmth, he didn’t care why he wanted her back. Only that the bed dipped again as she settled into it. Adrien felt the comforter shift beneath him as she settled into the bed. 

“A needy kitten, aren’t we?” She laughed, sleep weighing her voice down. He curled up with his tail wrapped around him. “I’m sorry, Adrien.” 

He barely heard her as sleep claimed him and he let them pull him under.


	11. Chapter 11

Adrien soaked up the sun against his black fur as he sat in the window sill of Alya’s apartment. Marinette absentmindedly stroked him along the white diamond of fur between his shoulder blades. She stepped away from him as Alya returned from answering the door. A flustered and concerned Nino on her heels. Her parents and younger sisters stepped out for what they called the Assembly, which he learned was a weekly gathering of witches in the coven, almost like a church mass. 

“You’re telling me that that cat is Adrien?” Alya pointed at him. He opened a green slitted eye to glare at him before curling back into his perch in the sunlight. His claws extended and retracted, kneading the air. “But he seems way too cat-like to be a human.” 

“You turned my best friend into a cat, Alya?” Nino rushed to Adrien’s side. His brown eyes filled with worry. 

“If I did, it wasn’t on purpose.” 

“You know better than anyone that the longer someone stays turned into an animal, the more characteristics they display.” Marinette huffed. 

“And why do you know this, Mari?” Alya crossed her arms over her chest. “How’d you know to bring him here? Are you a witch too?”

“I’m not a witch. I grew up around magic, lived with it. As you do. And I saw your witchmark the other day. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.” The lie fell from Marinette’s lips like honey, sweet and easy. So easy that Alya didn’t even look twice at it. But maybe because it wasn’t a total lie. 

“How do you even know that’s Adrien? He can’t talk.” Nino patted him between the ears. 

“I could just tell. He showed up last night and begged to be taken inside, so I did. He went straight to Adrien’s room and kept trying to point to all of Adrien’s things and kept trying to make me believe that he was Adrien. At some point I had no other choice but to believe him.” 

“Even if that is Adrien, and it could be, and even if I changed him into a cat, I’m not changing him back.” 

“But you have to.” Nino interrupted. 

“I didn’t mean to turn him into anything. And it happened. Must’ve been meant to be. And if you know so much about magic, M, you change him back.” 

That very thought had been playing on Adrien’s mind since she woke him up and dragged him to the fox witch’s apartment. If she was an all powerful devil, why didn’t she just turn him human and make it all easier on everyone?

“I’m not a witch. I don’t have any access to magic. Anyways, magic like that usually has to be undone by the caster to work or by someone extremely powerful.” 

‘Like you.’ Adrien chirped at her. No one could understand him, so there was no harm. ‘Big powerful devil can’t even turn her witch human again.’ 

“I’m not changing him back.”

“You need to, Als, it’s already Sunday. If M. Agreste finds Adrien missing and not going to school tomorrow that could be disastrous. He would freak out and send everyone he knows out after his son and lock down all of the arcane side of Paris. It would be a madhouse.”

“I’m still pissed at him. Nothing you say will make me change my mind. I’m not turning him back.” 

“Please, Alya,”

Adrien stood, stretching and arching his back. His claws extended as he stretched his hind legs out behind him. Alya stood a couple feet away. Her arms crossed over her chest with an angry pout on her mouth. Her brow was set and no begging or pleading was going to change that. He could see it written all over her face. 

“Girl, I said no. I’m not doing it. Dumbass got what he deserves.” 

He jumped, aiming to sink his sharp claws into Alya to make her know how he felt about being left a cat. Before he could sink his fangs and nails into her brown skin, he was scooped midair. Hands pressed along either side of his body, under his shoulders, as his hind legs dangled in the air. He hissed and wiggled, clawing at the air to try to free himself from Marinette’s tight grip. 

“I don’t think attacking her will get her on our side.” 

Alya glared him down. His slitted gaze returned it with ease. Ears pulled back against his skull with raised hackles. Marinette tucked him against her chest, ignoring the sharp pain that bite through her skin at his flailing claws. When the slight metallic smell of blood entered the air, he stilled, noticing the deep, slender scratches that dug into the fair skin of her forearms and biceps, marring it red. 

“Maybe he’ll turn into a full on feral house cat for all I care.” Alya huffed. 

“Babe, I know you don’t mean that.” 

“That boy stole from me, got you to steal from me and then lied about it. He kept it a secret and used me. Now he’s upset that he has to face some consequences for his actions by ruining my trust and destroying every boundary I had in place. And he almost got himself killed at the same time. That boy deserves more than the luxurious life of a house cat for a little while.” 

Marinette shot Adrien a look. One that said that they were definitely going to be talking about what he did to Alya to get her so worked up. Adrien had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew that it was about summoning her and his own witchiness. The look set the hairs along his spine standing. 

He hissed through his barred teeth. Not sure which of the girls to take his frustration and anger out on. 

“Can you think about turning him back? For me, Als? I don’t know what these two boys did to piss you off so much, but I can promise that they won’t go unpunished by the universe. But keeping Adrien a cat risks punishing many more people than just him. Alya, Gabriel could assume witches did something to him and send every witch hunter he knows after susceptible witch. That’s going to hurt a lot more people.” 

“Fine.” Alya shoved her glasses into her air, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll think about it. I need some alone time to get my thoughts in order and my emotions in check before I turn anyone else into an animal.” 

“We all know that was an accident. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Marinette set him down on the wooden floor, wrapping her arm around Alya’s shoulders.

“I’m not beating myself up over turning Adrien into a cat. I’m more upset that I lost control of my magic. What if that happened in public? Or to someone that wasn’t one of my best friends? What if I hurt someone without meaning to? I could’ve put all witches in jeopardy because I lost control of my emotions and my magic.” 

The two girls collapsed onto the couch. Alya buried her head into Marinette’s shoulder. Tears streamed down her face as she clung to the girl. Her shoulder hunched and shook with the sobs as they escaped parted lips. 

“It’s not something that you can always help. Magic is emotional. It always will be. The way it works is that it feeds and builds off your emotions and life energy and soul. Magic is still new for you and will take more time to master, you signed your contract less than two years ago, I bet, so it makes sense that you’ll make mistakes.” 

“This mistake could’ve had deadly consequences. And I didn’t even realize it. I was so upset and mad that I didn’t even realize I cast a spell until you brought over a cat claiming it to be Adrien Agreste.” 

“People make mistakes. We’re emotional. We lash out and we hurt the people we love. Sometimes that’s intentional and sometimes it isn’t. But almost every time that we do something like that we regret it. And we can’t always take back what we do to others. Sometimes it's far too late. It’s not too late for you.”

“What if it happens again?”

“We will be by your side to help you through it.” Nino stepped up, clasping a hand around Alya’s shoulder, rubbing into it softly with his thumb. Adrien rolled his eyes, but leapt up into her lap regardless, nuzzling into her stomach with a soft purr. Nino chuckled. “I think he’s saying that we all will be. Even if he’s a cat.” 

“It will all be ok as long as you try not to let it happen again.” 

“Thanks, guys.” Alya wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “Marinette, I don’t know many people who understand magic outside of the coven. And even then there isn’t really anyone my own age. It’s been nice to talk to someone who understands a bit more about magic and what that means that isn’t related to me.”   
“Oh, I don’t know that much. I’m not a witch myself. How could I possibly know that much more about magic?” 

“It still helped. I’m still going to need some time before I feel up to turning Adrien back.”

“How much time do you think that you’ll need?” Marinette asked the question plaguing Adrien’s mind. 

How he wished that his feline tongue and throat could talk like a human. 

He’d have some choice words for Alya, but mainly he would keep them to himself, seeing her breakdown as she could’ve hurt someone that wasn’t him, made his chest tighten and his heart weigh down in his sternum. She looked so vulnerable and emotional. Different to the anger that she had spouted at him yesterday and only a couple minutes prior. 

“I don’t know. I don’t feel comfortable doing any kind of magic right now. And I still am pretty pissed at this cat that I don’t really want to turn him back any time soon, but you made a compelling argument to make me reconsider where I stand.” 

“Text Adrien’s phone when you decide you’re ready.” 

“You really need to get your own phone, M, we have so much to talk about and it sucks when I can’t talk to you outside of school. Also, it's kinda weird that you don’t have one.” 

“Oh, I have one. Of course I have a cell phone. It just doesn’t work in France. I don’t have a french data plan yet. But as soon as Adrien is feeling up to him, I’ll make sure that we go and get one.” Marinette gave a nervous chuckle. 

If Adrien could have laughed, he would’ve. He had seen first hand her aversion and dislike of technology, almost like she was an old man living stuck in the ways of the past. It made him wonder what hell looks like if they didn't seem to carry the same modern advances as the mortal plane. A part of him wondered if it looked like the dream he had a couple nights ago. 

The only time she had seemed remotely interested in any piece of electronics was when she caught him playing video games one night and demanded that he teach her. For someone who didn’t live with gaming consoles or the same technology, Marinette took to video games like a fish to water. He’d have to play her for a rematch when he had opposable thumbs again.

“We’ll get out of your hair, Als. You must be tired of seeing this cat around, and I don’t think Adrien being here will help to put him in your good graces.” 

She scooped him back into her arms. He crawled up and onto her shoulders, curling around the back of her neck and resting his head on her collar. 

“He sure is cat like. And he likes to snuggle with you, M.” Alya chuckled halfheartedly. “I still don’t want to change him back and probably won’t be anytime soon. I’m still pissed even if Adrien makes a pretty cute kitty.” 

She moved to pat him on the head and he nipped at her fingertips. Adrien wasn’t going to let her pet him unless it meant turning him from a cat back into a teenage boy. 

“Play nice.” 

Marinette scratched under his chin. He melted into the touch, purring. Even if he wanted to fight the way he was like putty under her touch, Adrien didn’t think he would be able to when her soft fingers and nails knew all the right spots that had him purring. Marinette left the apartment with him on her shoulders. Nino stayed back with his girlfriend for some quality time together which mostly meant that he would probably be on his knees apologizing to her in any and every way possible. 

He jumped down from his perch on her delicate shoulders when they entered the stairwell. Adrien wasn’t sure if he could hold on given the bouncing that came with their descending. She stopped right before they left the stairwell, bending down at her knees so she was as eye level with him as she could get. 

She pressed her hand to his chest, her fingers traveling up his chest, his throat, under his chin, and ending at the tip of his muzzle beneath his nose. 

Marinette’s eyes flashed red as she spoke. “Speak. And let me hear you.”

“What are you doing? Whatever it is it isn’t going to work.” His voice didn’t come out as he expected it to. Instead of the feline chirp or mew, words spilled off his tongue. “If you could’ve made me speak before why didn’t you?” 

“Because, to everyone else but me and you, you sound like a normal cat. If a very chatty one. I didn’t want you talking my ear off and yelling at me the whole time. And maybe it was a little fun to see you act and behave like a little kitten.” 

“I didn’t think it was very fun.” His tail swished behind him. 

“C’mon, chaton, I think I have a good place for us to talk. You said you wanted to talk, so I’ll hold up my end this time.” 

“I wouldn’t be like this if I hadn’t run after you yesterday because you ran off when we were supposed to be having a conversation.”

“I never planned on you following me or getting caught by Alya.” 

“But you did lie to me and run away from answering my questions.”

“That I won’t deny. I could. But I won’t.” 

Marinette scooped him up, hooking him underneath her arm. She looked back and forth around the lobby. No one else in sight. Her eyes began to glow a faint red, brighter as she arched her hand through the air by two fingers, completing a full circle in front of them. A mirror-like surface replaced the air, reflecting them back in the floating space. The mirror rippled. Instead of showing Marinette and Adrien, it showed the top of the Arc de Triomphe. She stepped through it. 

Air rushed around them and seemed to float them as she stepped onto the tan stone that made up the popular monument. Marinette set Adrien down and closed the portal behind them. He wandered close to the edge and looked down. All around the base of the Arc de Triomphe, tourists took photos of themselves with the monument or of the monument on its own. Cars drove around it at a fast pace. Wind rushed through his black fur and he scrambled away from the edge before he could be seen by the tourists at the bottom. 

“What are we doing up here?” He ducked himself between her legs. Marinette took a seat, crossing her legs beneath her. Adrien sat across from her.

“I thought it would be a private place for us to talk, as you keep insisting that we need to do. I like the view of this place. I heard about when it was built and always wanted to check it out, but I couldn’t.” 

“Why couldn’t you?”

“It was constructed in the early 1800s. I had already been sequestered to the Pits for about two hundred years, give or take a decade or two. I rarely came to the mortal plane after that.” 

“Why were you in the Pits for so long? Why does Alya’s devil book say not to ever summon you?”

“I experienced a big loss because of the witch trials in the late 1400s and an even bigger loss during it. All my witches were found and slaughtered.” Her voice became like ice. Her blue eyes hardened and darkened. “After that I swore never to make another witch. About that message in the book you found, I spread that rumon myself. I made it known to other devils that I no longer wanted to have witches or covens in my name and told them to spread the information. However, humans don’t listen a lot of the time, especially when they think they can get more power, and I was in a really dark place, for a very long time. So, whenever a human summoned me I never listened to what they wanted and I killed them. Eventually that worked to stave off most humans from summoning me.” 

“I didn’t realize.” 

“Until recently, I mean very recently, I still had it in my mind that I never wanted another witch. So, you’re my first witch in almost five hundred years.” 

“Why can’t you turn me back? You broke the other curse put on me as part of our deal. So, I would think that you could take this little one off me too.”

“Normally I could.”

“Normally you could? Why can’t you now?”

“It’s a price I have to pay to wear the earrings. It dampens my magic significantly. I think I only have access to about a tenth of my normal magic reserves. Curses are special. They link both caster and victim for as long as the spell lasts and becomes integral to their soul and binds to their spirit and dna. It takes a lot more magic for a third party to remove the link without damaging the caster or bespelled person. Especially when that curse comes from pure emotional magic.” 

“Everything you’ve shown me is only a tenth of your magic?”

“I have a lot of magic. Most devils have to. It's how we can give away pieces of it to our witches.”

“You’re a lot more forthcoming on information than I expected. Especially after you ran away from it yesterday.” 

“You aren’t going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” His tail curled around him, resting atop his paws. “Why are you here? I mean, why are you staying on the mortal plane for so long? From the history I’ve read and what Alya told me, it only means devastation and trouble for a devil to stay on the mortal plane.” 

Marinette sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It's true. It almost always spells disaster for devils to stay on the mortal plane.” 

“You aren’t selling yourself well for staying.” 

“I didn’t think I needed to.”

“I’d still like to know that I won’t be cause for the next world disaster.” 

“You won’t. I have nothing against the mortal plane anymore. Like I said, I was in a dark place for a couple hundred years, so if you asked me what I wanted to do to the mortal plane then, I would have wanted to burn it all to ash. But I no longer feel that way. I don’t want to bring harm to anyone I’ve met here. But for the reasons I am actually here, other than the fact that I was curious how the world has changed, something is coming. I can feel it. 

“The moment I stepped foot onto this plane, I knew that something terrible was coming. I never planned to stay more than a couple hours. I never even intended for you to know that I had been here, but once I put the earrings on and felt what I did, I knew I couldn’t leave without figuring out what it was.” She cupped his face. Adrien rubbed his chin against her ministrations. “I couldn’t leave my only witch alone and defenseless when it came, either.” 

“That same book also said that one of the devils was dead, Plagg.” 

Marinette took her hand back like she had been shocked. “He is. There are a couple devils that have been killed over the years.” 

“How do you kill a devil?”

“Are you trying to figure out how to kill me in case you need to?” She smirked. “Because it isn’t that easy.” 

“No. More curious than anything. I didn’t think that anything could kill a devil.” 

“Anything can’t. The only way to kill another devil is for a devil to do it. Or to make the devil mortal.” 

“You can make a devil mortal?”

“It's hard and rare, but yes. You can.” 

“How many devils have been killed.” 

“Four. Mullo, Duusuu, Wayzz, and Plagg.” She sighed. Her gaze fogged over as if lost in a memory. Her lips formed a tight, thin line. Marinette tapped her fingers against the tops of her thigh. “Everyone else is alive and kicking.”

“What about Trixx? Alya said something weird happened to that devil.” 

“Trixx split her soul in two. I’ve never seen anything like it, nor do I understand it. But she insisted on doing it. Trixx, herself, might not be the same devil she was before, but she is alive even if the two new devils don’t always seem like they could ever be a part of her.” 

“You’re a High King, shouldn’t you be ruling or doing kingly duties or something like that in the Pits?”

“I’m allowed to take a vacation, Adrien. I’m not expected to rule all the time. I think a couple more devils would be dead if they expected that out of me.” 

Adrien rested his heads on the top of the Arc. The sun of the sun warmed the fur along his back and on top of his head. Marinette’s dark hair reflected the sunlight. The dark, faraway look never left her eyes, as if she took herself to another place and time. 

“What about this trouble that you sensed? Do you know what it is?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

“How can you tell something bad is coming, but have no idea what it is?”

“I’m not omnipotent. I felt something rotten in the air and knew that it was a sign of something bigger and worse coming.” Marinette sighed, leaning back to lay on her back with her hands crossed beneath her head, and her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. “I know that it is demonic, in part, that’s for sure. So, as the head of the devils I knew I had to figure out what it was and maybe out a stop to it.” 

“Maybe put a stop to it?”

“I can’t guarantee to interfere. There are rules that I must follow when on this plane, and if I can’t stop whatever is coming because of those rules, there is nothing I can do. Humans and witches will be on their own.” 

Adrien moved to sit next to her face, looking down at her with slitted eyes. “What rules are those?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not? Let me guess, that’s one of the rules.” 

She tapped her nose, “Spot on, chaton.” 

“These rules sound great for us humans.” 

“They aren’t. But they are necessary. I’ve already skimmed the do not cross lines of the rules by staying here so long and spending as much time with my witch that I have. And everything I’ve told you, most devils would be pretty upset to hear it. Most also wouldn’t let you interrogate them.”

“Then why are you? Or are you going to get mad and attack me?”

“I’m doing it because I want to, and you deserve to know some of the things. I’m not mad or anything. I also don’t try to make a habit out of attacking my witches. You caught me in a foul mood, and I still wasn’t sure if I wanted a witch, but I regretted it shortly after, because I do want a witch. I didn’t realize how much I missed having a witch until I had one again.” 

“What’s the point of a devil having a witch? What do you truly get out of it? Because I feel like you getting my soul in return wouldn’t be worth it while I’m alive.” 

“I get more access to the mortal plane through you.” 

“It has to be more than that.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like explaining the rest of why. Ask another devil and hear what they have to say and then maybe you can ask me again.” 

He rested a black paw on her cheek. “Tell me, please. It's fair. I want to know what you truly get out of this relationship.”

“So, what we have is a relationship. Do I get a say about how I define us? Are we boyfriend/girlfriend now?” Marinette smirked. 

If he could blush, Adrien would be beet red. “You know that isn’t the type of relationship I meant. Stop dodging the question.” 

“I told you already how devils and their witches have a bond, a link between them, one where I can feel your emotions and you can feel mine, but that isn’t the only thing about the connection.” She swallowed hard. “A connection between a witch and a devil is a powerful thing. Not only do you gain power, but we gain access and strength through the more magic you use and the stronger the link between devil and witch is. Also, devils don’t feel like humans do. We can’t, not when we don’t have access to human emotions. When I have a witch, when I have you and am with you, Adrien, I feel more. They're more intense and explosive and there are so many of them. They're like a high that I can ride and feel. I know that I’m alive because I can feel. Because of you. Because you’re my witch.” 

“The link does all that for you? I can barely feel it.” 

“That’s because devils don’t feel much unless it is an extreme. Also, the link isn’t necessary for you like it is for me.”

“It doesn’t seem necessary for many other devils. At least for Alya, she said that she never talks to her devil and her devil doesn’t seem to care about her all that much or their bond.” 

“Most devils now-a-days have disconnected from the link on their end because there are also detriments to the bond.” 

“Like what? You can do that?’

“If I wanted, I could place a barrier on the bound, blocking out your emotions and you would never get the chance to feel mine. The bond is dangerous because if a devil is killed when there are still active witches connected to that devil, the witch will die a horrible death alongside the devil. And vice versa, the devil feels the pain of death of every witch life it is bonded to.” 

“So if you die, I die too.” 

“And if you die, it feels like I die, but I get to live with the pain.” 

“Looks like you had no reason to fear me trying to kill you. I’m not suicidal. So, most devils disconnected the link after the witch trials, I’m assuming.” 

“Most never had an open connection to begin with. Even before that time.” 

“If you said it was like a high, why would someone give that up?”

“Most hate human emotions. Hate how it makes them feel things so vividly, makes them feel vulnerable. I happen to enjoy it.” 

Adrien crawled onto her stomach and settled there. He kneaded her shirt beneath his paws. “So, what I’m healing is: you’re weird for a devil.”

“Very strange. But also very powerful.” Marinette chuckled. She raked her nails along his sides and under his chin, scratching at his forehead with her thumbnails. “Have any other questions?”

“I don’t think so. At least not right now. Keep doing that.” Adrien purred. “It feels good.” 

“I have some experience with cats.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I just like cats. I think they’re pretty cute. And you make a pretty good one, Adrien.” 

“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not. I feel like it shouldn’t be a good thing that I make a good cat.” 

“I’d take it as one. Alya didn’t have any animal in mind when she turned you into a cat, so it must’ve been what the magic thought would fit your soul best.” 

“Like the size of my soul or personality?”

“Your spirit. Your personality. The animalistic embodiment of your soul.” 

Adrien’s purring quited, “Now I’m pretty certain that it isn’t a compliment to say that my soul is like a house cat’s.” 

“I like it, chaton.” 

“I don’t care what you think.” He huffed. “I would like my soul to be something a little cooler than a domesticated feline.” 

“Really? Like what?”

“Maybe a peregrine falcon, or a wolf, or a shark, or even a dog. They're cooler than cats at least.” 

Marinette laughed, “Cat’s don’t eat their own poop though. I happen to like that about them. And they don’t stink and slobber all over the place.” 

“You’re a cat person, huh.” 

“Definitely.” Sadness smoothed her jovial features. A small scowl replaced her bright smile. “At least I was.” 

Adrien knew something was wrong, but Marinette no longer seemed to be with him. Her hands stilled on his back. Her mind wandered to a different place and time. He wanted to know what took her away and what made her look so heartbroken. Adrien inhaled sharply. She didn’t look heartbroken, he realized as he watched her face, slacked feature and faroff look, but she felt heartbroken. The feeling that was strong enough to make it through the bond, for him to feel and understand, foreign emotions pressing on him and they felt like his own at the same time. Adrien curled onto her stomach and purred, trying to ease some of the pain that flooded from her to him. 

He had never felt heartbreak as strong as what pressed on his chest and squeezed his heart. Not since his mother died. Adrien recognized this heartache. 

It was one of loss and guilt and self blame. A feeling he experienced over and over since his mother’s death. Marinette blamed herself for causing the death and pain of someone she loved. Adrien didn’t know that for certain, but the strong emotions came through the link between them like a rush of familiarity and nostalgia.  
As Marinette’s emotions mingled with his own, and he accepted them through their bond, he made her a promise. That he would never be the cause of the heartache that she felt. That she would never be left alone in the tidal waves of pain and hurt.


	12. Chapter 12

Adrien’s father didn’t notice that he wasn’t in his bedroom that night, at least not as himself. Instead her curled up on a pillow next to Marinette’s mass of black hair. It spilled around her as she slept. She insisted on sleeping in the same room in case the curse got worse, as no one knew how Alya’s spell would react or change as Alya did, and that if anyone looked in on him, his bed looked slept in and it looked like he was home. Natalie and Gabriel cared where he was, not where their little houseguest slept. 

He closed his eyes, trying to sleep, but it evaded him. Adrien stretched and recurled and kneaded the pillow to get comfortable, but nothing helped. His ears perked at the sounds Marinette made in her sleep. Not exactly snores and not exactly talking. Something in between. Occasionally, he heard words of phrases. 

She tossed and turned next to him. Marinette’s face crumpled. A small whimper escaped her parted lips. 

Whatever nightmare or dream she was having might have made her unhappy, but it didn’t cause any strong enough emotions for Adrien to feel. How strong did her emotions have to be to let him feel it through the bond? And how strong did his have to be for her to feel? Adrien had a feeling that if she wanted to, Marinette could feel everything he felt, even if she told him differently. He thought about the pain he’d experienced through Marinette and wondered what could cause her such heartbreak. 

Adrien headbutted his forehead against her cheek. She was warm beneath him. Her cheek slightly slicked with sweat. Marinette didn’t wake up when he headbutted her again, so he stepped away and repositioned himself on the other side of the bed. 

He closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep. 

Adrien opened his eyes to find himself back in the room from his previous dream, back in his human skin. He stood in the same place as before, watching out in the large expanse of the room. His gaze drifted upwards to the stained glass ceiling, and for a moment, he wondered who the kitten eared man beneath the red haired woman was. He assumed that the woman was a form of Marinette, based on the ladybugs that flew around her and the bug-like wings on her back. 

Was that man the one that had caused the pain in her heart when she thought about him? 

The man’s kitten eared head reminded him of what he would wake up to. Adrien felt a flush tinge his cheeks the longer he found himself staring at the glass mural. It was an intimate design, showing passion and love and lust. One he hadn’t found himself truly seeing the other time he’d seen it. The glass showed the connection between the two bodies, the faces of pure bliss and desire, the adoration the kitten eared man had from the women astride him. 

Marinette did say she liked cats. 

“Welcome back.” Marinette’s voice hummed through the room, cutting through his thoughts. “Do you like it?”

Adrien found her sitting on the edge of the lagoon, her bare feet delicately dipped into the water. The white colored water. No longer a lagoon of blood. Instead it glistened like fresh snow, but moved like a current went through it, underneath the surface. 

Marinette kicked her feet, splashing and rippling the white surface. A sad smile on her face. The same faraway look in her ageless eyes. 

“The stained glass? It's beautifully done work.” Adrien bent down and rolled the cuffs of his cotton pants up to his knees. His bare feet tried to hold their grip on the stone as he walked his way along the edge like a tightrope walker. “What is this place? Are you actually here or is all this made up in my mind?”

“I’d say a bit of both.” 

“That doesn’t make much sense.” 

“Dreamworlds and hell aren’t meant to make sense. Neither are humans nor devils.” 

“That was even less helpful.” 

Marinette laughed. He felt compelled to follow after that laugh, to get closer to it, to hear it again, and to once more be the cause of it. Her hair fell in front of her face, hiding it from him. Adrien settled down beside her, careful to keep his feet out of the water. He wouldn’t chance another dream death in the lagoon. 

“I never claimed I was going to be helpful or that you should listen to me.” 

“Are you actually Marinette?”

“Yes and no.” 

He sighed and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling, “Explain.” 

“I’m a version of her that you dreamt up mixed with some of her magic.” Marinette tapped her cheek with her index finger, staring into the white water. “I can’t tell you things you don’t already know or think or feel or want, but I also don’t have to listen to you. I’m a piece of her that comes through the bond occasionally to say hello when you want to come here. This place also chances ever so slightly to fit how you view her.” 

“What is this place? What do you mean by how I view her?”

“You’ve been asking so many questions of her, me, today.” She sighed and rolled her bluebell eyes. “A piece of Marinette’s, Tikki’s, memories that slipped through the bond and into your subconscious. You dreamt the water to be red because you viewed her as deadly and destructive, that’s why you died in that dream. You dream now of white water, a clean slate, if a little strange, to splash whatever color you want on it. I’m being forthcoming for you because she was to you too.” 

“So, I didn’t make it up. Or this dream to be accurate.”

“No, but this place also no longer exists. And it still is a dream. You’ll wake up and everything will be the same as it was.” 

“It doesn’t always feel the same as it was.” Adrien dipped his feet in the water. Slightly more confident nothing would reach out and kill him. “I keep learning more things and then I get all confused in my head.”

“Then stop asking questions and stop learning new things. Figure out what it is you need to know before you jump into something new.” 

“What if I can’t control jumping into something new?”

“What would this new thing be?”

“I don’t know.” Adrien turned to face her. She looked up at him. He noted the freckles that stained her skin and the endless blue of her eyes. The red of her lips was bright against the fairness of her cheek. His thoughts from the night at the club weighed heavily on his mind, now that he didn’t have the rampant questions and the fact that he was a cat taking up all the space. He remembered the warmth she caused and the coil in his gut that responded to her. 

How he thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Since he thought that, he decided never to think about it again. Or think about how he loved the way her hands felt on his skin. Or the way only she could make him purr. 

Adrien needed to stop these thoughts now and fast. Shut them down before they could take root like weeds in his consciousness. 

“You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“I only know what you tell me.” For some reason he assumed dream Marinette knew exactly what he thought of and what he thought of her. 

“You said that this place was in her memories, but that it no longer existed. So, that means it was once a building in hell, but something destroyed it.”

“We both know what destroyed it.” 

Marinette--Tikki--did. For some reason she destroyed this beautiful bedroom and monument to a lover. 

“Why did she do it?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

Adrien sighed, “There’s still so much I don’t know about her, huh.”

Dream Marinette leaned her head on his shoulder, “She’s been alive since the creation of the universe, she told you that herself. Tikki has more memories and more time than probably anyone.” 

“It's a little weird about you talking about her in the third person. Because you are her.” 

“You’re right, Adrien. But it’s time for you to wake up.” Marinette shoved his back and he fell face first into the water. 

“It’s time to wake up, chaton, we have to get out of her before Natalie comes to wake you up for school.” Marinette murmured in his ear, rubbing him along his back. 

Adrien yawned and peeked an eye open at her. His dream flittered out of his brain, forgotten as he stood and stretched. He rolled his neck and arched his back, looking positively feline. 

“I can’t go to school, Marinette. I’m still a cat.” 

“While we have to make it look like you went to school, otherwise Gabriel will be knocking down doors demanding to know where you are. And when he can’t find you or finds a cat in your stead he’ll start another round of full blown witch trials.”

“He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, do that.” 

“From what I heard, he almost did after the death of your mother.” Marinette was already dressed in a red, yellow, and black plaid skirt and black long sleeve. She wore red knitted thigh high socks and black loafers. Her hair tied into two pigtails down her back. She held out her messenger bag for him. Adrien understood what she wanted, but he planted his heels and shook his head. “C’mon, we have to get going.”

“I’m not going to school in your backpack.”

Marinette sighed, “Well I don’t think we have much choice. It’s either this or face an angry witchfinder general.”

“You don’t even want to go to school and I’m a cat, so why can’t we just ditch.” 

“Because, as I understand it, you need to go even if they don’t know you’re there. And you can still learn even if you can’t take notes. If both of us are missing today, that won’t look good for your reputation at school, or mine for that matter, either.” 

“What if something unexpected happens with the curse at school? So many things could go wrong.” 

She ushered him into her bag, “Then we deal with the issues as they arise.” 

He huffed, but went into the messenger bag. Adrien popped his head out the top to watch as she grabbed his cell phone off the charger and tucked it into the bag next to him. Marinette snuck them out of the mansion without incident. They took the underground to the school and waited outside of it until Nino arrived an hour later. Marinette responded to texts from Natalie asking about his whereabouts, explaining that he got a ride from Nino early in the morning to work on a school project. Nino okayed his involvement in the cover-up. 

Alya arrived just before the bell rang and stalked past them. She said a quick hello to Marinette, but ignored Nino and the black cat head peeking out of Marinette’s bag. 

Adrien cursed his luck, almost blaming the bad luck curse, until he remembered that Marinette removed it from him. This was his own bad luck. No need for supernatural help. There was no way that Alya was in the mood to turn him from cat to human. 

“Adrikins!” Chloe squealed as she came into the room. Her eyes landed on his empty chair. “Where is he?”

“He’s home sick.” Marinette offered. 

“My Adrien doesn’t get sick and not tell me about it.” He snorted at that.

“I’m sure that when he feels up to it, he’ll let you know.” 

Chloe huffed, glaring daggers in Marinette’s direction, seeming to blame his disappearance on the dark haired girl. The class began, but she still refused to stamp out her anger. 

The day passed without incident, except for more nagging and a round of texts to Adrien’s phone from Chloe, and without a word from Alya if she would think about turning him back anytime soon. Marinette gathered her things, and extra worksheets for Adrien, as she claimed he was home sick, before leaving the campus. 

“Mari, hey, I hoped I would catch you.” 

From Adrien’s vantage point in the bag, he saw that the boy who approached her had dark hair, dyed blue at the ends. His grey-blue eyes lit up when he caught sight of Marinette. He looked a couple years older than Adrien. A familiar look about him that he couldn’t place.

“Hi, Luka. What’s up?”

The young man--Luka--held a red cardigan out for her. “You forgot this on the boot on Saturday. Since Juleka felt sick and didn’t come to school today, I thought that I would come and drop it off myself.”

“You didn’t have to come all this way to bring it to me. I could have waited until I saw you next or Juleka, or she felt up to school and brought it herself.” Marinette took the cardigan and tucked it against her chest. She wrapped her arms around Luka’s neck in a short embrace. “Thank you so much for the thought.” 

“I guess I also wanted to see you again. We never had the opportunity to plan to hang out again, so I was hoping to maybe ask when you could be free. Juleka told me you didn’t have a phone that worked in France yet.” 

Adrien felt fire alight in his blood. A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach, tightening and coiling as a dark feeling grew inside of him. He tried to clamp down on the new feeling. His claws extended into the fabric of the inside of the bag. A small growl grew in the back of his throat and chest. He couldn’t explain it. Something about this Luka rubbed him the wrong way, but he couldn’t place his finger, or paw, on it. All he knew was that he did not like him nor did he trust him further than he could throw him. He wouldn’t ever try to throw him, so that trust never would go far. 

“I’d love to hang out sometime.” Marinette smiled at him. Adrien’s growl grew louder. She eyes the bag cautiously. “But maybe we can figure this out another time.” 

Luka inclined his head. His face was close to Marinette’s. Too close, Adrien decided. “Are you okay? I know that you were stressed this weekend and distracted. I didn’t want to push you, but you know that if you ever need to talk about anything I’m here for you.” 

‘She has someone she can talk to already.’ Adrien thought. ‘Her witch.’

“I appreciate the offer. It’s so sweet of you, but right now, I’m alright.” 

Luka grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. Adrien released another growl from inside the bag. “I know that it must be tough staying in a new country and everything. I also know how the Agrestes can be. Especially with anything that’s different from what they are used to or deem right. So, if you ever need to get away from that, the Liberty is always open to you.” 

Marinette squeezed his hand before dropping it, “Thank you, Luka. I have to get going, but I hope to see you again.” 

As soon as they were out of ear shot, she opened the bag, shooting him a glare. “What was that, Adrien?”

“What do you mean?” He feigned innocence. 

“You kept growling like a feral cat. I thought something was wrong with you.” 

“Who was that?”

“Who was who? You mean Luka? He’s a friend of mine. He’s Juleka’s older brother.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. He’d seen the look in Luka’s eyes. That man didn’t want to be friends. At least he didn’t want to be just friends. 

“I don’t like him.” 

Marinette cocked a brow, giving him a confused look, “And why is that?”

“Something about him smells wrong. It doesn’t feel right.” 

She laughed. “That really makes you sound like you’re a true cat. Maybe you are starting to acclimate and accept your new status.” 

“Never. Something about him didn’t feel right to me.” Like how close he got to you like it was meant to take up that space. 

“Silly kitty.” She rubbed at his forehead and under his chin. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I can protect myself.”

“Be careful around him. He’s not all sunshine and sparkles. I can tell that.”

“And you are?” Marinette smirked. 

“Everyone does seem to call me sunshine.” 

Marinette laughed. The sound heavenly to his ears. Every time she laughed he wanted to hear more of it. Adrien settled back into the messenger bag as Marinette got on the underground, and the door slid shut behind her. 

For the rest of the week, Adrien went about life as a cat. Marinette came up with excuses left and right whenever Gabriel or Natalie asked questions about his whereabouts or when his father asked for him to join for dinner. He knew his father wouldn’t be happy about Adrien seeming to ignore any face to face meetings, but he’d deal with that when he wasn’t trapped as a cat. 

Eventually Marinette roped his bodyguard into the situation, explaining what had happened to him to the large man. Adrien had told her not to do it, but she couldn’t keep making up excuses for how he ended up where she said he was, and to his surprise, the Gorilla only nodded and accepted the situation with ease. Marinette had a shiteating, I-told-you-so grin on her face afterwards. 

As Friday rolled around, he felt like he could finally breathe. Natalie and Gabriel were scheduled to fly out that night and be gone for the next week. Maybe his luck wasn’t totally in the gutter. If they weren’t in the house, they couldn’t figure out that neither was Adrien. Not like they expected him to be at least. 

They texted him before the plane took off, reminding him of the lecture and meeting that would be expected of him when Gabriel got back. 

“Thank god they are gone.” Adrien hopped onto the kitchen counter next to Marinette. 

She dug her spoon into the pint of hazelnut coffee ice cream. Marinette changed into her pajamas; an oversized t-shirt and cotton booty shorts that showed the lower half of her behind when the shirt rode up. Next to her, resting beside her hip, sat a glass of whisky.

“That’s a weight off my shoulders. Your dad and his assistant are insistent on knowing where you are twenty four seven. It’s exhausting and constricting.”

“Now you know what it's like to be me.” 

“It sucks to be you. And I’ve only been pretending to be you for a week.” 

Adrien swatted her hand and shot her a glare. “Do you think Alya is any closer to deciding she no longer wants me to be a cat.” 

Marinette shook her head, “I don’t think so. She only truly forgave Nino two days ago, and even then there was still some tension there. She might love you, chaton, but she also can hold a grudge like a devil.” 

“What’s that mean?”

“That means for pretty much all eternity. Devils aren’t known for being the forgiving type. We also don’t tend to apologize because we rarely take responsibility for our actions.” 

“That’s pretty self reflective for a devil. You’ve apologized to me.” 

She gestured at him with her spoon, slightly melted ice cream falling off the edge, “I’m a weird devil. I thought we established that.” 

Marinette shoved the rest of the pint back into the fridge and tossed the fork into the sink. She knotted her hair into a high chignon, settling against his white leather couch. The television and gaming console turned on when she hit the power button on the controller. She pulled up Mecha Strike III. Adrien sat next to her on the couch, curling behind her knees. 

“I can’t believe how good you are at video games when you barely had any experience with the technology.” He watched in awe as she beat player after player in online mode. Marinette landed combo after combo never faulting in her move sets until the other player was defeated. More like completely crushed. “Are you sure you don’t have video games in the Pit?”

“I wish we did. When I go back, I’m going to insist that we set up some sort of video game system. Of course I won’t be able to play human players, but maybe I can convince some devils and lower hellion to be interested.” 

“The Pits aren’t actually beneath the earth, right?”

She laughed through her nose, “It’s more like another dimension. There is a split in the dimension in some places and lower level demons could get through, and in the past they have, but not recently. That split also allows for the transfer of magic between my dimension and yours. Magic allows users to create larger doorways, but only from this side.” Marinette slammed the buttons on the controller. “Fucking die already.” She whooped as she bent the mech suit over her own and slammed its head into the arena floor. 

“Only from this side?”

“I guess not exactly,” She stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth. “If enough devils get together we can create a door, but it isn’t safe for any party involved. The wall on your side of the rift is a more solid wall than our side. So, it’s harder to break in from our side.” She landed another combo, blocked, and tore the head of the opponent’s mech suit. “That’s what you get.” Marinette giggled. 

After a couple hours of watching her play, Adrien hopped into her lap, signaling that he was ready for her to turn off the game and the both of them to go to sleep. Marinette set the controller on the coffee table and gathered Adrien in her arms. 

“Really, chaton?” She pet his scruff. 

“I can’t sleep when you play that game, or any video game. You yell and swear too much.” 

Marinette shrugged, “I’m competitive. What can I say?” 

She dropped Adrien, unceremoniously, onto the comforter of his bed and slid beneath the blankets. He curled up onto the pillow next to hers. Adrien watched as her eyelids fluttered closed and listened as her breathing regulated. He followed her into sleep not long after. 

The rest of the week passed, and Adrien was still a cat. He glared at Alya every chance that he got, reminding her that he was still in this form because of her and her magic. She didn’t look remorseful any of the times that she returned the look. 

Chloe demanded to know where Adrien was, almost insisting that she go to his house to check up on him. Marinette had ushered her into a corner and pulled Adrien out of her bag by the scruff of his neck. 

“Cesaire!” She screamed her head off and found the auburn haired witch when Marinette explained the situation. Chloe also promised that she would turn him back the moment she could, confirming Marinette’s suggestion that she was a witch.

As the school week ended and it got closer to when his father was supposed to come home, his anxiety ramped up. It tightened bands around his sternum and squeezed, unsettling his stomach so that he felt like he could puke at any minute. Gabriel expected to have a face to face meeting with Adrien when he returned. And he didn’t expect that face to be feline. 

Adrien paced along the edge of his bed. Marinette leaned against the doorframe to his bath, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top knotted above her navel. 

“Freaking out about it won’t help. There is nothing that we can do.” Her arms crossed over her chest. Adrien watched the slender muscles flex in her arms and in her taut stomach. “I won’t say that everything is going to be okay, because I can’t promise that. But no matter what, we will survive it. I can come up with another excuse if need be.” 

“He won’t take another excuse. My father won’t stop until he has that meeting when he wants it.” Adrien paced faster. “And if you come up with another excuse, he’ll blame you and take his anger out on you.” 

Marinette picked him up under his chest and held him in her arms. “I’m a big girl. I can handle the witchfinder general.”

But he didn’t want her to have to deal with Gabriel or his anger, “I know you are. I just wish I could go to that meeting. It should be me going.” 

“Unless you want to go as a cat, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.” Adrien nuzzled into her warmth. “Are you sure there is nothing you can do?”

“I don’t have enough magic to break the spell and turn you human, but I think I might be able to come up with a strategy that would make it so a human Adrien could go see Gabriel.” 

“How?” 

“I could make an illusionary version of you.” She smiled as he headbutted his forehead into her palm. “The only issue is that true illusion, ones with sound, image, and smell, take a lot of magic. I couldn’t hold it indefinitely, so it couldn’t be a long meeting.” 

“How long could your magic last.”

“Half hour to an hour. I can’t guarantee anything longer than that. And even that is stretching it.” 

Adrien shook out his head and scratched behind his ear at an itch. The skin beneath his fur began to itch incessantly. He begged for her to scratch him and relieve the burning itchiness all over his body. He cried out for a split second as his bones cracked and everything changed. 

The world tumbled beneath him as he fell, no longer landing naturally on all fours, as he would’ve in his cat form, but on his hands and knees. On human hands and knees. Adrien caught his breath as the pain and itchiness resided. He looked down to find Marinette beneath him, caged in by his knees on either side of her hips and his hands pressed in the floorboards beside her head. His naked body pressed against her. 

He swallowed hard. A blush stained his cheek and the tips of his ears. “Looks like I’ll be able to go to that meeting.” 

Adrien pushed himself off of her and took a seat on the bed, covering his groin with a pillow. His flush deepened. He looked down at the pillow, avoiding Marinette’s teasing grin. 

“It looks like you’ll be able to go yourself.” 

His phone buzzed on his nightstand. He opened the notification and handed the device to Marinette. She chuckled as she read the message from Alya. Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The message read: ‘I’m no longer angry at Adrien. I’m ready to try to turn him back.” 

She quickly responded: ‘We figured that out. Everything is all good on our end.’

“The spell wore off when Alya’s feelings dissipated. I’m glad. This went a lot better than it could’ve gone.”

“Speak for yourself.” 

She giggled, “I am, chaton.” 

“I’m no longer a cat. You don’t have to call me that anymore.” 

Adrien felt the bed dip as she took a seat next to him. Marinette cupped his chin, making him reach her blue gaze. Her nails scratched under his chin, and against everything in his being, he purred. 

“I think it suits you still.”

He huffed and crawled off the bed. Adrien slammed the door to his bathroom shut behind him. 

He wheeled himself into his father’s office when Natalie came to fetch him from his room. Adrien caught a glimpse of Marinette’s bedroom, empty of her, as he passed. Natalie shut the double doors to the office behind him. 

Gabriel stood on Adrien’s side of the desk. His mother’s painted face looked on from over Gabriel’s narrow shoulder. His father grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, half pulling him out of the wheelchair and threw him to the ground. He stepped on Adrien’s chest, shoving him into the plush rug of his office. 

“I don’t like being told ‘no’ Adrien. Especially when I ask things of you. Simple things.” He pressed down harder. It felt like his entire body weight trapped Adrien against the floor, threatening to crush his sternum. “I’m your father. You aren’t allowed to tell me no when I ask things of you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, father.” 

Gabriel pushed down harder. Adrien choked and struggled under his shined heel. The toe dug into his throat, compressing his windpipe. “What was that?”

“Yes, sir. I won’t do that again.” He croaked. 

“Good.” Gabriel stepped off him. “Now get up, Adrien. I think there is something that you should show me.”

“What do you mean?”

Gabriel’s loafer connected with his side in a punt to his ribs, “Don’t lie to me. I know you can walk. I saw you on the cameras. You also canceled all your physical therapy appointments like I wouldn’t notice. How long I’ve you been lying to me?” Another sharp kick to his side. Adrien rolled over and hugged his knees to his chest. “Tell me.” 

“Only a couple of weeks. I never lied to you. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.” He bit back a cry as he got a kick to his kidneys. Pain bloomed over his back and sides. Tears stung at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. 

“Anytime would’ve worked. You kept this secret from me. Did you really think that was something you could get away with?”

Adrien grunted against another onslaught, “I never meant for it to be a secret. It never felt like you wanted to hear it.” 

“Liar.” Another kick before he heard Gabriel back away. “You should have told me the moment you regained the ability to walk. Next time something like this comes up, I better be the first one you tell, son. Now get up. You are dismissed.” 

Adrien pulled himself off the ground. One arm wrapped snugly around his middle and the other pushing the wheelchair out of the office. He abandoned it by the door and made the trek up to his bedroom. Each step lit a fiery pain in his side and back, taking his breath away, making him groan and wince his way up the marble stairs. 

Marinette leaned her back against his bedroom door. Her face smoothed into a look of passivity and stone. Adrien pushed past her, into his bedroom. He softly shut the door behind him and locked it. 

Not tonight. He decided. Adrien needed to be alone. He collapsed into his bed, shoving his face into the pillows. Finally, alone in his large mausoleum of a room, he let the tears fall, masking the sobs with the pillow. In the back of his mind he knew that Marinette felt exactly what he did, but he didn’t care or want to think about it. 

He didn’t want to think about Gabriel. Or Marinette. Or anyone. Or anything. He didn’t want to think at all. Adrien wanted all the thoughts to stop. 

For a numbness that would never come.


	13. Chapter 13

Marinette stood atop the Eiffel Tower. It lit up with lights along its sloping metal sides and pointed tip, as the sun had set hours ago. She sat, dangled her feet over the edge of one of the beams. The cool metal was solid beneath her backside as she stared off into distance. The Parisian skyline both dark and alight at the same time. 

Her mind wandered off into the distance, trying to spot the dark mansion that she had been calling home for the past month. A mausoleum of a lonely boy, a dead mother, and an abusive father. 

Marinette thought back to the pain she felt from him. The hurt that radiated through the bond between them that she continued to will herself to ignore. His pain was always on display for her, but she knew he wouldn’t want to face it. 

He hadn’t faced it either night. Both times she ended up locked out and away. Either from her own volition or because that is what he asked of her. Even though she felt the loneliness and desire to be held that he truly felt when he told her to leave him be. How he didn’t actually want to be alone, but didn’t know how to face that feeling. 

She understood it better than he could ever understand. Marinette hated to be alone. And she was left alone over and over. Mostly because of her own actions and their consequences. 

Marinette pushed the thoughts and tough memories away. Of the last time she had been in Paris and the last time that she had a witch. The last time that she saw her partner in crime. It all weighed down heavily on her chest and caused a deep ache to settle in her chest. One that hadn’t left in five hundred years. 

Adrien didn’t need to feel her despair. She knew that he had enough to deal with on his own. So, she shoved it down and locked away the memories of radioactive green eyes that always found her own. Of hands that traced her body with love and desire and passion. Of a smile that could light but her whole world and make her fall in love all over again if she let it. Marinette locked those memories so deep within her and turned the key in the lock on her heart so that those feelings wouldn’t make it through the bond and wake her sleeping witch. 

She wanted to go to Adrien that night, wanted to take away the pain that sealed itself in his chest, like she had with other witches and loves before, but he didn’t think he wanted her to. Adrien wanted to deal with his pain on his own terms and alone. Like it dealt with most. 

All since his mother left. 

Sometimes Marinette wondered if she should tell him about his mother, about the truth behind her and the curse placed on him. But then she felt the grief and the sorrow and the guilt and knew that something like that would destroy him if he ever knew. 

She still kept so many things from him, living a life as long as she had meant that there were many skeletons in her closet. Most Marinette didn’t want to think about or have a witch, one she grew closer to than she would willingly admit or want, know.

“This is where you ended up. It took you long enough to check in, Tikki.” 

Marinette brought a joint to her mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag. She smoked it down to the filter, letting the smoke burn the back of her throat and settle in her lungs, embracing the high, before she acknowledged the woman in the summoning circle beside her. 

“I didn’t think I had to check in with you Longg.” 

“As your general, and personal guard, I’m supposed to look after you and keep you safe. That means knowing your location at all times.”

“But that’s no fun for me. Maybe I don’t want you breathing down my neck all the time.” 

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Longg. Inside of a summoning circle, Longg took the form of a petite young woman with short hair cut along her sharp jawline. She dressed in samurai style armor, modernized to look more like army fatigues, with a katana strapped to her side. 

“I don’t care.” 

Marinette sighed, leaning back on her palms, “You never do.” 

“You know that’s not true. I care about what is best for both the Pits and the mortal plane like you do. I also care about your wellbeing, especially after everything that happened.” 

“How’s hell looking?” She tried to change the subject. “Still in one piece since I’ve been gone?” 

Longg stretched her hand out in front of her. Along her knuckles crawled a ladybug. “You know it is. You don’t have to use your bugs to spy on me. We could check in for reports like usual.” 

“But that means summoning you here and that’s a lot of work. This is supposed to be my vacation.”

The ladybug flew off of the devil’s hand and through the circle’s barrier to land in Marinette’s palm. It played with her thumb, climbing atop the nail. She left many of them throughout the Pits and on devils when she left, just as she left in the Agreste mansion, Alya’s house, Adrien’s fencing clubhouse, and the high school. 

“You’ve been gone for over a month. That’s plenty of vacation time. I think you should come back.” 

Marinette stretched her legs and pointed her toes. “Because you can’t handle running things?”

“Not with that piece of shit I can’t. When he told me you came to him with a message that the two of us were supposed to work together, I laughed in his face and almost threw him in a hole so deep underground that he would never see the light of day again.” 

“C’mon, you and Sass can work together.” She tried everything to hide the smirk on her face. Marinette knew for a fact that they could barely stand the sight of one another. Let alone be able to work as a team to rule while she was on vacation. 

“He’s the leader of the other faction. The one I’m currently against. How am I supposed to work with a lunatic like that snake?”

Marinette giggled, “You’re practically a snake yourself. A really big one if anything.” 

“Don’t call me a snake.” Longg hissed. “I’m nothing like that piece of shit.” 

“I know you have different philosophies on how we engage with the mortal plane and with our witches, but you two will eventually have to either get along or kill each other.” 

“I wouldn’t mind the latter.” 

“This is why I thought that I should put the two of you together. No side will say I play favorites and maybe you guys won’t kill each other.” She sighed. “At least that was my thought when I told him that you would rule while I was away. At least I came up with a plan and didn’t leave everyone to scramble for leadership.”

“Come home, my king. That will solve everything. You are the rightful ruler.” 

“Not interested. I’m having a good time up here. I needed a vacation after five hundred years.” 

Longg glared her down, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here, Tikki?”

“Smell the air. It stinks. Rotten as death itself. Something is wrong here.” 

She sniffed the air, tilting her head slightly. Her face crumpled at the scent of rust and decay. Longg pinched the bridge of her nose, “So what? Last time I checked you wanted the mortal plane to burn. It’s none of our business. Leave humans to destroy themselves with whatever foolish endeavor they embark on this time.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why is that?” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

Marinette dug another joint out of her bag and tried to light it. The high in her veins and the gush of wind made it hard to keep the flame on the lighter. Eventually she got the joint to light and took a deep inhale of the bitter smoke. “I made a witch.” 

Longg scoffed, her eyes widening ever so slightly, “I thought you were done with witches.” 

“You have some. I thought maybe I should get back in the game.” 

She breathed weed smoke out her nose, like the dragon that Longg normally took the form as. Marinette leaned back on her elbows. She stared up at the beams and rafters that blocked out the night sky. 

“Tell me about this witch.”

“I don’t have to do anything of the sort. He’s my witch.” 

Longg rose a dark brow. Her hands moved swiftly in front of her, calling up an image of every witch in the area that bore Tikki’s ladybug mark. Only one popped up.

“You always did have a soft spot for green eyes.” 

Marinette sighed through her nose, “Not like you have much you can say about that. You have almost no witches outside of Japan, China, and Korea. We both have our types.” 

“You’ve always liked Paris too. You and Pl--” She shot Longg a glare so fierce that the words died on the dragon devil’s tongue. 

“I do like Paris. For many reasons. When I get the chance, the mortal plane can be a pretty fun place to visit.” 

“You’ve never wanted to talk about what happened the last time you were here and I let you have your time to grieve and mourn, but you should really talk about what happened that night.” 

Marinette glowered at the dragon devil, enough to make Longg second guess bringing up that night in Paris. It wouldn’t have been the first time Marinette had cut out someone’s tongue for trying to talk about that night. Longg would be no exception. 

Instead, Marinette lowered her gaze, lashes fluttering against the apple of her cheek. “I don’t want to talk about it. It hurts too much.”

“How are you even staying on this plane.” She changed the subject. “I thought--” Longg stared at Marinette when she tapped her earlobes. 

“A gift from my witch.” She snuffed out the filter on the beam next to her and flicked the butt. 

“You said those were gone forever.” 

Marinette shrugged, “Guess they weren’t.” 

“But how--”

“Things happen.”

“But--”

She made a face and stuck her tongue out like she ate something sour. “It isn’t important now, is it? So don’t make such a big fuss.” 

“Make a big fuss? This is a big issue and you’re telling me to drop it when those earrings and others like it are out in the world and could be in the possession of some unsuspecting humans.”

“Don’t worry about it so much. Most humans have no idea how to even use them or their purpose.”

“Tikki, this is a big problem. You can’t act like it’s not.” 

“Oh, I can’t?” Marinette smirked. “Watch me.”

Longg growled, anger rising, “Why’d you summon me here, my king? Just to play with me because you got bored or to anger me by reminding me how stressed I was when you disappeared and everything in hell went to shit?” 

Her tan skin turned a deep, blood red, shades darker than Marinette’s form, and long, black fangs peaked out over her lip, growing past her jaw. Smoke curled over her lip and out of her nose. Black claws extended out of her hands and feet. Her eyes narrowed and glowed a red so dark it barely constituted as the color. In the chest of her armor glowed a serpentine dragon curled up in a circle, elements marking its scaled skin. 

“No particular reason. Bored. I guess.” Marinette lied. “C’mon, you know that your demonic form can’t scare me into answering you. That also isn’t a normal witch summoning circle, so there is nothing that even you can do to get out of it.” 

“I don’t believe that you are bored and have no reason. You don’t do anything without a reason.” Longg’s voice deepened to a guttural snarl. She banged against the invisible wall that rose up from the edge of the summoning circle with a growl. “You have a reason for summoning me. Tell me.” A long, red scaled tail whipped through the air and curled itself around her. 

“Maybe I thought it would be fun to summon you. You also told me that you wanted to know where I am.”

Longg swimped a clawed hand at the barrier, but it didn’t budge. Marinette’s bright red eyes met her dark ones. Magic hummed on Marinette’s skin. Red sparks singed her clothes and traveled along her knuckles, startling the sleeping ladybug. It flew away and landed on the crown of Marinette’s head. Longg’s eyes glowed a similar red, trying to break the spell. The circle refused to budge its protective walls and refused to let the spell that summoned her end. 

“Then let me go home.” 

“Calm down and listen to me. Then you can go.” 

“Why should I?”

“Because, as the rightful ruler of hell, you must obey me and my command. No back down and take a deep breath. Listen to what I have to say.” The sparks jumped off her skin. Ready to attack the dragon devil on instinct.

Longg snarled and swiped at the barrier. Her eyes glowed as she tried another spell. Marinette sucked the air out of the summoning circle. Longg clawed at her own throat as it closed up. 

“Are you ready to listen?” The earrings warmed in her lobes, almost to the point of burning. A warning to how much magic she used and how low her reserves were getting that she ignored. She couldn’t hold the spells much longer without consequences. 

Longg took a seat on her knees. “Yes, my king.” She croaked out. The air rushed back into the circle. The dragon took a deep breath and hung her head in defeat. “Fine. I’ll listen and evaluate what you offer me.” 

Marinette pulled a knee to her chest and rested her head on top of it. She took a deep sigh, “Here’s my proposal.”


End file.
